Blood
by Artemis Luna Diana
Summary: Harry is swept away from Hogwarts and finds himself falling into a seductive darkness, yet all he really wants is to go home... SLASH HP/SS
1. Prologue: Bloodlust

**Title:** Blood

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadianayahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.

**Summary:** All Harry wants, is to go home.

**Spoilers:** _HP & the Sorcerer's Stone_ through _HP & The Order of the Phoenix_: Chapter 18. Events diverge before Chapter 19 begins.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to:** Namie Louise, snapeysnapesnape, Kes, and Shadow for the excellent betas and double thanks to Namie Louise for 'Rector Lamia'

* * *

Prologue: Bloodlust

* * *

Yesterday had been the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army.

Harry smiled slightly as he thought of the meeting. They were pulling one over on Umbridge. It was going to be difficult to schedule meetings around three Quidditch team practices, but somehow they'd manage. He was sure of it.

Harry rubbed his neck, wincing slightly. He was tense. That woman made him so angry. He didn't think Malfoy, Snape, or even Voldemort could piss him off as well as _she_ did. He walked out of the school and crossed the lawn, heading toward Hagrid's place. The half-giant was still gone, and Harry missed him.

The October wind bit at his exposed flesh, and Harry wrapped his arms around himself, tucking his hands under them. Ignoring the slight shiver his body gave, he kept walking. When he reached Hagrid's hut, he sat down on the front step. He wasn't sitting long when he heard a peculiar noise coming from the Forbidden Forest.

At first he dismissed it, thinking it was simply one of the many inhabitants of the forest. When he heard it again, he realized the sound did not appear to have come from an animal. Instead it sounded like someone talking.

Harry stood and cautiously approached the forest. He drew his wand. It was possible that it was only Snape out gathering potions ingredients, but it was also possible that it was Death Eaters. Carefully, he entered the forest.

The noise had stopped, and Harry halted about twenty feet in. He could still see the edge of the forest clearly, even if the area was a little dark. His skin crawled, the area felt… funny. Frowning, he tightened his grip on his wand. "Sirius would kill me if he knew I was in here," he lectured himself. "It's probably just one of the centaurs. _Lumos_." Instead of the light he expected, Harry felt a jerk in his stomach and knew no more.

* * *

Harry woke slowly. He blinked and raised a hand to his throbbing head. He felt sick. He could feel his wand in his right hand, and slowly sat up. He was still in the forest. He looked around but didn't see the edge. He tried to stand, but it made him sick, and he fell forward onto his hands and knees, vomiting. He spat and then struggled to stand again. He felt so weak.

He took a few steps before he collapsed to the ground. What was wrong with him? What had happened? He rested his weakened body against a large tree. He put his wand away, afraid he'd lose it in his current state. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he could just rest a bit. His last thought was '_Sirius is going to kill me_.'

* * *

Someone was speaking. Harry opened his eyes, and his vision swam. He could make out a man through the crazily tilting view his eyes were providing. Harry didn't recognize him, and he couldn't understand what the man was saying. His eyes closed; he couldn't keep them open. He felt himself being lifted into the man's arms and slipped into unconsciousness once more.

* * *

The next time Harry woke, he realized he was lying in a bed. He still had his glasses on and tilted his head to see where he was. The room – if you could call it that – was more like a cave than anything else. The bed was simple and made of wood with what felt like a hay mattress. The sheets were coarse, as was the blanket. He sat up slowly, expecting nausea to strike. When there was no dizziness, he sighed in relief. He flipped the covers back and swung his legs over the side. He was even more relieved to discover he was still dressed in his school clothes. He reached into his pocket and felt his wand, happy to find it still there. He stood up.

The man from before walked into the room. Harry frowned when he said something. He couldn't understand what the man was saying. It sounded like something he should be know though. He wondered in horror if he was no longer able to speak. "What did you do to me?!" He understood himself fine, but it was obvious the man didn't understand him.

The man was Quentin Smith.

Quentin stared at the man-child who reeked of power. He had found the man-child three days walk from the coven. He sighed under his breath. He had hoped that he could do this with the stranger's cooperation, but that obviously was not meant to be. He stepped forward and grabbed the stranger by his clothes. Quentin was surprised to feel the man-child begin to retaliate. He knocked the man-child to the ground and pinned him there. With one hand, he turned the stranger's head to the side. His teeth sank into the child's flesh with ease. The blood was hot and tasted almost smoky. The man-child continued to struggle. It wasn't until he was nearly drained that the lure of the vampires began to invade his senses. Quentin shivered in pleasure. The stranger was powerful indeed.

Harry felt lethargic. At first he had struggled, but now, the feel of his blood being drained was blissful. He couldn't stop the small groan that escaped his lips. He felt the man pull away and whimpered at the loss. The vampire looked down at him, smiling, Harry's blood staining his lips. He said something, but Harry was still clueless. The vampire bit his own wrist and pressed it to Harry's mouth. He said something more, his tone soothing and encouraging. Unwillingly, Harry sucked the blood into his mouth. The first taste was enough to make him moan in pleasure. He drank greedily as the man continued to smile down at him.

* * *

'_Ah, you're awake. Very good_.'

Harry opened his eyes and tried to process that the voice he heard was in his head.

'_Don't be alarmed. What is your name?_'

Harry saw the man sitting at the foot of the bed, looking at him expectantly. "Harry." He decided not to say his last name until he figured out what was going on.

'_Well, Harry, my name is Quentin Smith. You may call me Quentin, Sir, Lord, Father, or even Master should you so desire._'

Harry stared at the man's unmoving lips, barely registering what the voice was saying. "What is going on?"

'_Speak to me mentally, my child, I cannot understand the words you speak._'

'_What is happening to me?_' Harry thought to himself in horror.

'_You have become a vampire._'

Harry stared at him in shock.

Quentin frowned. '_Do you realize what this means?_'

'_Vampires aren't real,_' Harry's mind screamed at him.

Quentin chuckled. '_We are quite real, Harry._' The amusement died, and he looked almost sympathetic. '_I see that I have much to teach you._' He stood. '_Try and get some rest. We will begin early tomorrow._'

Harry closed his eyes. "Oh, please, let it all be a dream," he whispered. "A very bad, very twisted dream." (1)

* * *

Harry woke to the feel of someone shaking him. "Go away, Ron," he said sleepily without opening his eyes.

'_Harry, wake-up._' Quentin's mental voice was tinged with annoyance.

Harry shot awake. '_Oh my God, it wasn't a dream!_'

Quentin rolled his eyes and dragged Harry from the bed. Harry followed him into the next room, noticing they were in some sort of cave system. Harry shuddered. It wasn't hard to figure out why. '_Sit,_' Quentin said and pulled out a chair for him. Harry sat down hesitantly. Quentin rounded the table and sat across from him. '_Eat._'

Harry frowned and stared at what looked like bacon and bread. '_I thought vampires drank blood._'

'_We do. However, you are not ready to experience the bloodlust. I am smothering yours. You won't feel even the most remote desire to feed. Until I release it, you need to eat regularly, just as you would if you were human._'

Harry began to eat. He pretty much figured out that Quentin could hear his thoughts if they were focused, but he didn't seem to be able to pick up on anything deeper than surface thoughts.

Quentin watched him in silence. After awhile, he spoke again. '_I think it would be wise to explain the bloodlust to you first._'

Harry swallowed hard, for once completely intimidated by someone other than his Uncle. '_Okay._'

'Every vampire must obey the needs of his body. Just like a human, we require sleep, shelter, and food. It's the food aspect, though, that invokes the bloodlust. Vampires must have blood to survive. The amount of blood needed depends on the age of the vampire. The bloodlust is a survival mechanism created by the need for blood. However, the bloodlust can backfire, which is why control is necessary. The Rector Lamia, the leader of the vampires (2), is the one who provides the control that each vampire needs to survive. If for some reason, the current Rector Lamia was unable to control the bloodlust, you would hunt and feed until you were sated. Should the sun rise before the lust cooled, you wouldn't care. Any vampire out in the sunlight would die because they would be unable to comprehend the danger that they were in and would burn to death. Control is vital to a vampire's survival.'

Harry had lost his appetite when Quentin began his lecture. Now he felt like he was going to throw-up. '_I can't control my bloodlust?_'

_'By yourself, no. Truly controlling the bloodlust is impossible. The Rector Lamia has the greatest influence upon your bloodlust. Fortunately for you, I am the current leader of the vampires and your sire, which is why I am able to completely smother your bloodlust. However, I will not always do so. For the rest of the vampires, I exercise a minimum amount of restraint upon their bloodlust. They are able to feed but still keep their minds. They aren't ruled by their need for blood. Unfortunately, I cannot keep them from going out of control if they lose their self-restraint. You are the only one whose bloodlust I can smother to this degree."_

'_Can I affect my bloodlust at all?_'

Quentin shook his head. _'Not at your age.'_ He leaned forward slightly. _'A vampire's bloodlust is controlled by his will, but a willful child has no hope of controlling his own bloodlust. The will required to control the need to feed comes with age and experience as well as your body's familiarity with changing the blood of your meal to suit your needs. The strength of your will dictates the amount of control you have over your own bloodlust. Those with the strongest willpower have the potential to become the Rector Lamia.'_

'_Well, how old are you then? How long was it before you became the Rector Lamia?_'

_'I am 158 years old, and I've been the Rector for forty-six years._' Quentin paused as he realized Harry probably didn't know the significance of that feat._ 'Most Rector Lamias only rule for twenty years or so before they are either killed or die in battle. The longest rule was over two thousand years ago by Ulma the Wise, who ruled for one hundred and nine years.'_

'_How is it possible to accomplish anything when the leaders are constantly changing by such dire events? And what battles were you referring to?_' Harry asked, totally distracted from his original line of questioning.

Quentin looked surprised. '_Battles with werewolves of course. There are some occasional skirmishes with humans of both the magical and non-magical kind, but mostly it's werewolves._' Quentin thought about Harry's first question. '_What exactly do you want us to accomplish?_'

Harry blinked. He didn't know what to say.

Quentin frowned slightly. '_Anyway, you are going to stay here for a few years until you are capable of defending yourself. I won't have my child being killed by werewolves or jealous vampires before he's even ten years old._'

Harry swallowed. '_Years?_'

'_Yes. You have much to learn._'

'_I have to go home._'

Quentin sighed. '_Harry, you can never go home. The sooner you realize this, the better off you'll be._' He stood. '_Your body is still adjusting to the change. You need to rest some more._'

_'No, you don't understand, I have to go home! They need me!'_

_'Silence, Harry. Do not speak to me in such a manner again. Now, follow me. You must rest.'_

Harry stood, angrily, and followed Quentin back into the bedroom. He climbed into bed. It was then he noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses. Harry's mouth dropped open in shock. Perhaps it shouldn't have been such a surprise, but still. Turning into a vampire had given him perfect vision. He shivered slightly. Perfect vision to hunt with. His sleep was by no means easy.

* * *

Harry sat on his bed feeling awful. He wanted to go home. Needed to go home. He didn't want to be a vampire. How was he suppose to fight Voldemort like this? He fought back angry tears. It would be stupid to try and escape. One: he didn't know where he was. Two: he had no idea what weaknesses he now had. He kind of figured that sunlight was one of them, so it would be stupid to run off because he could get caught in the sunlight. Three: he believed there might be werewolves running around in the forest. Four: he had no idea how anyone would react to his being a vampire.

Perhaps that was the greatest motivation to stay. Hermione had told him that vampires had died out centuries ago and all that was left were partial vampire humans. There were no more full-blooded vampires. Harry felt suddenly squeamish. He'd prefer not to think about blood of any kind.

'_Oh, good. You're awake._' Harry looked up to see Quentin standing at the entrance. '_I think it best if we started teaching you to speak._'

'_I can speak!_'

'_I meant, speak my language._'

'_Oh. Whatever,_' Harry muttered, happy to be putting off any more talk of blood.

'_After that, I'll teach you to read and write._'

Harry didn't bother to say he already knew how to read and write - he understood what Quentin meant.

And so they began.

* * *

Quentin's language came easy to Harry for some reason. He still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd heard it somewhere before though he couldn't remember where. Once Harry had a firm grasp of the spoken language, Quentin dragged out something that looked like the old Egyptian papyrus, a quill, a sharp knife, and some ink. Harry was a little dubious. He didn't see what was wrong with using good old regular parchment, but if Quentin wanted to teach him to write on papyrus, what was the point in arguing?

As Quentin began to write the alphabet down, Harry frowned. The more Quentin wrote, the more Harry became confused. Compared to Hermione, he might not spend much time in the library, but Harry was by no means stupid. In his old Muggle school, he was at the top of his class. He recognized the alphabet Quentin was scribing as Ancient Greek.

"I brought this written language back from a place called Greece," Quentin was saying as he finished writing the alphabet. "We Celts just haven't had a need for written language. I believe that vampires will find it useful, however, which is why I am teaching it to you. Word of mouth isn't always the most reliable source, you know?"

Harry nodded dumbly. That so could not have meant what it sounded like.

"Good."

Harry tried to pay attention to Quentin, but found it difficult with all this newly-discovered knowledge swimming in his brain. Quentin eventually decided to stop for the day since Harry seemed to be having such trouble, and sent Harry off to study.

Harry collapsed onto his bed in a daze. _'It can't be true! It can't be real!'_ his mind screamed. He lay in total shock. Ancient Greek. Celts. Passing knowledge by word-of-mouth. He was sitting smack-dab in the ancient past. The reason Quentin's language had seemed so familiar was because it was the ancient form of the Gaelic he had heard Seamus speak. By his estimation, it was somewhere between 700 BC and 100 BC, that was about the time that travelers had brought written Greek to the British Isles. It was somewhere around there anyway; he only vaguely remembered learning about it in Muggle school. _'I just want to go home!'_

He could honestly admit he was terrified. He had no idea how he got here and no idea how to get back to his own time. If he wasn't completely nuts. Maybe he was just making something out of nothing. And if he was in the past, he was in serious trouble. He hadn't any idea where to find a powerful, intelligent, _light_ wizard or witch. And even if he did find one, he was so far back in the past, he'd be lucky if they knew a disarming spell. Did the wizards of this time use wands? He cursed Professor Binns with all of his being. If Binns hadn't been so boring, maybe he'd know a little more about magical history. All he could remember from that class was the numerous Goblin rebellions, which were of no use to him.

He tried to clear his mind of his shock and fought to think. _'What do I do?'_ He wasn't aging, so theoretically, he could just hang around until someone figured out a way to send him home. But to hang around, he'd need to figure out how to defend himself and how to take care of himself. He knew next to nothing about the time era he was in. IF HE WAS EVEN IN IT! He'd need to learn as much as he could from Quentin. His heart sank as he remembered the other obstacle. He'd need to figure out what it was to be a vampire. Because if – _when_ – he returned home, there would be no one to help him figure it out.

* * *

{three months later}

"Wake-up, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes to see Quentin standing over his bed.

"You need to learn to wake-up quickly and on your own. I'm not going to always be close by to wake-you up. And what if you get attacked in your sleep?" Quentin lectured as Harry climbed out of bed sheepishly.

"Come on. Today we begin your physical training."

Harry followed Quentin out of the room. "Physical training?"

"Of course. You didn't think you'd catch your prey with your good looks did you? You certainly won't stop a werewolf with them."

"Right."

"You will of course learn how to use every weapon in the armory and then chose three to specialize in."

"Armory? Just when are you going to show me around this cave system?"

"When I'm certain you won't try to run off."

Harry scowled. He wasn't planning to 'run off' until he knew everything that Quentin knew.

* * *

{two years later}

"Excellent! Now move faster!"

Harry ducked and rolled to the side as the axe came swinging towards his head. He didn't speak. He wasn't supposed to. He blocked, defended, and simply got out of the way as the need arose. He wasn't supposed to attack. Harry had discovered ten seconds into training with the axe, that he hated it. Unfortunately, it was one of Quentin's favorite weapons.

"Okay, that's good."

Harry was panting and sweating heavily. "I hate the damn axe."

"I know," Quentin said cheerfully. "Which is why I began with it." Quentin walked over and set his axe down on the table of weapons. "Staffs."

Harry set his axe down and picked up his staff. He sighed. Just once, he'd like to best his teacher in something. That wasn't likely to happen any time soon though. Quentin was one hundred and fifty six. That was a lot of experience to beat.

After getting beaten soundly once again, Harry put his staff up. Quentin smiled at him. "I've decided to be a little easier on you today. Work on whatever you wish to, and I will return in six hours to get you for dinner. That will be all for today."

Harry grinned. "Okay!"

"But, you'd better be training!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Quentin laughed and left the room. Harry grinned and rubbed his hands together. '_Whatever I want, huh?_' Harry quickly strode over to the two dual-bladed polearms (3). It was a weapon that looked as if someone had taken two swords and mashed the handles together. He picked up his. He'd designed it himself after seeing Quentin's, and Quentin had taken the design to a blacksmith. It had been Harry's birthday present – his turning celebration.

Unfortunately, it was a lot heavier and harder to wield than he had imagined. He'd been very disappointed. Quentin had then explained to him that he could begin his body's aging process again. Harry had refused. He didn't want to return home looking any older than he had when he left. Quentin was a little surprised Harry hadn't wanted to continue aging, but hadn't pressed him on it.

Harry began his exercises.

The first time he had tried to wield it, he'd nearly cut himself in half. Quentin had laughed and asked him what he thought was going to happen when he swung the blades. Harry stopped half-way through.

_'If only it were a little bit lighter,'_ he mused. Harry blinked. "Duh!" He quickly put the weapon up and dashed out of the room. He passed by Quentin on the way to his bedroom. "Just need to get something real quick!" he called over his shoulder as he ran by. When he reached his room, he lifted up his pillow to reveal his wand. He picked up the wand and dashed back to the armory.

It had been a little odd not using magic, but Harry didn't want Quentin to know what he was capable of. After all, Quentin was being tight-lipped about the nature of vampires, so he didn't see why he couldn't be secretive too. It was frustrating. Quentin taught him how to wield the weapons in the armory, gave him a few warnings, and that was it. He was still confused about the whole bloodlust thing. He hadn't felt any desire for blood, even when Quentin left for a few weeks. How could he be a vampire if he didn't drink blood?

He cast a few charms on the blade to make it lightweight, more durable, and change the balance a bit to make it easier to handle. He put his wand up his sleeve and picked up the polearm. He started his exercises again. The blades seemed to sing as they slashed through the air. He began to increase his speed.

* * *

With his new found confidence – and slightly altered weapons – Harry's skills began to radically improve. He decided later, that it was the dumbest thing he'd ever done. Now, Quentin felt it was time to teach Harry to hunt, something that Harry had been dreading since he'd first turned.

"To begin with, I need to tell you a bit more about vampires."

"Alright."

"To begin with, some of the things I told you when you first turned were lies."

"What?!"

"Vampires have three stages of development," Quentin continued as though Harry had not spoken. "The first stage is called the birthing. This is the stage that you are in right now. The birthing stage is after the turning but before the first hunt. In vampire-borns, this stage is skipped completely."

"Vampire-borns?" Harry asked confused.

"Oh, sorry. Vampire-borns are those who are born vampires, not turned."

"Okay," Harry said, understanding the term but not how it was possible.

"I'll go into them later. In the birthing stage, there is no need for blood to survive."

"So I can stay like this forever! I don't have to kill anyone!" Harry interrupted.

"I wouldn't recommend it. One: you will always have your weaknesses. And two: if you stay in the birthing stage too long, it will kill you."

Harry gulped.

"After your first hunt, you enter the second stage: what we call the transition. In this stage, fresh blood is required at least once a month as the bloodlust burns through the old. This stage is where the bloodlust is the strongest. The transition takes a hundred years."

"What are we transitioning to?" Harry asked, worried.

"The third and final stage is known as the Daylight Years. When a vampire reaches its Daylight Years, it is able to walk about in the sunlight without fear. The last stage also has a decrease in the power of the bloodlust. Fresh blood is only needed once every three months."

Harry started to speak, but Quentin held up a hand to forestall him.

"Although, I say fresh blood is only needed once a month after the first hunt, if you do that, you will not reach your full potential. To become strong, to control the bloodlust on your own – as you desire so much – fresh blood is needed much more frequently."

"How frequently?"

"At least three times within the span of five days. Though it is best to feed once a day or more."

Harry slowly digested this information. There was no getting around killing someone, and once he began, there would be no stopping. If he stayed in the birthing stage, he would be unable to go into the sunlight and it would eventually kill him. There was no way to fight Voldemort like that. But, was his life worth the lives of the people he would kill? Also, would his hunting change the future – his present? Could he end up killing Albus Dumbledore's ancestor and thereby ending the old Headmaster's existence? If Dumbledore wasn't around, would Grindelwald have taken over the magic world? And even if he failed to, who would have slowed Voldemort during his first rise to power? If he killed one of his ancestors, then he would cease to exist. But, if he didn't exist, then he couldn't come back and kill his ancestor. The possible paradoxes were mind boggling.

There was only one choice available to him. He was going to have to hope and pray that he was meant to have traveled back in time and those he killed were meant to die. He gulped. He was also going to have to live with the deaths of innocents on his hands.

"Are you ready?" Quentin asked.

Harry hesitated slightly before replying. "Yes," he said firmly.

"Then come. Night will fall soon, and the hunt will begin."

* * *

Harry followed Quentin through the cave system. "When you said you lied, you meant that all that crap about controlling my bloodlust didn't you?"

"Yes. I needed to terrify you into staying. I didn't want you to run off and get killed."

"Once my bloodlust begins, can you control it?"

"Control it? No. Influence it? Yes. All I can do is make sure that it doesn't go out of control. I cannot stop your need for blood, nothing can."

Harry had no reply.

"Harry, we all begin with feelings of guilt. No one wants to kill, but it is our nature. It is what we must do to survive. Eventually, you will come to accept this, and it won't bother you. Humans will become just food to you."

Harry halted, and Quentin turned back to look at him, puzzled. "Let's get one thing straight. It is possible that one day I might accept that I must kill to live, but I will never consider them to be just food, and I will always regret taking a life. I will always wonder what I have taken from the world, what good that life could have done. I will _always_ hate taking a father from his children and a daughter from her parents. Do not assume that acceptance means I like it." Harry walked past his startled teacher.

* * *

"There is a woodsman and his daughter that live close to us. When the man's wife died, the villagers believed that he was the cause. He moved his daughter and himself out of the village before they could be run out."

"How old is the daughter?"

Quentin frowned. "She's about seven summers, I believe."

"We are going to kill a seven-year old child!" Harry hissed.

"Yes. Why? Too young for your tastes?"

"A child!"

"If it bothers you so much, turn her if it will make you happy," Quentin replied annoyed.

"I wouldn't know how."

"And I wouldn't recommend it."

"Then you do it!"

Quentin scowled. "Does it mean so much to you? The life of one girl-child?"

"Yes!"

Quentin smirked. "Alright. I'll turn her for you." Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. There was something about the expression on Quentin's face that didn't bode well for the girl or Harry.

* * *

They exited the caves in silence, and Harry followed Quentin nervously. It had been almost three years since he'd been outside, and knowing that werewolves were running around just itching to kill a few vampires did not make him feel any better. He had two daggers strapped to his thighs, and as he walked, his fingers brushed the hilts. Quentin carried his axe strapped to his back and a dagger in his left boot. The new moon was out tonight, they weren't likely to see a werewolf.

Their steps were soundless as they made their way towards their unsuspecting prey. They stopped a little ways from the woodsman's home. Quentin turned to Harry. "When you smell the blood and see the beating of it beneath the skin, your teeth will sharpen and your instincts will take over. Take the girl-child. I will take her father."

Harry nodded nervously.

Quentin was right. He could smell the blood long before he saw them. Quentin took out the man easily, and Harry's instincts took over as he grabbed the girl. His teeth descended painlessly, and he leaned forward sinking the newly emerged teeth into the young flesh. The girl flailed against him, but he could think of nothing beyond the taste of her blood. It was only a few seconds before she stopped protesting and embraced him with a whimper. It only seemed to fuel his hunger as he growled involuntarily and tightened his grip on her.

As her embrace slackened, Harry slowly began to recover. He released her neck immediately, and she went limp in his arms. He laid her down on the floor and looked up to see Quentin watching him. "Do it! Turn her! You said you would!"

Quentin stepped forward and knelt beside the girl. He bit his wrist and pressed it to the young mouth. Harry watched, immobile, as she latched onto Quentin's wrist. She made contented cat-like noises as she fed off of his Sire – their Sire. Her mouth became slack and her eyes closed. Quentin looked up at him. "It's done. Carry her. We need to return to the caves."

* * *

Harry deposited the girl in a room Quentin set up for her and then retreated to the river deeper in the cave system where they gathered drinking water, bathed, and washed their clothes. He looked down into the water, his reflection revealed by the light of the torches in the churning depths. Blood was splattered on his cheek. His lips were stained with it. He shivered as he remembered the taste of the girl's blood. He began to retch and while he did throw-up, no blood came up. His body had already absorbed it. He was now in the transition stage. The bloodlust had begun, and next time, Quentin would not be turning his victim. Blood wouldn't just be on his face; it would be on his hands as well.

* * *

TBC… 

_Author's Notes:_

Okay, before you ask, the girl (who will remain nameless for the entire fic) is going to die at the beginning of the first chapter. She is not, I repeat, NOT a Mary Sue. She is part of a lesson that Harry has to learn.

Since Harry is back in the BC's, Severus obviously isn't around. This means that their relationship does not begin until Harry returns to his own time. However, Severus is the love of Harry's life, they will end up together, yada yada yada, it just won't be immediately. Sorry.

To find out about progress and/or lack of progress head to my yahoo!group or my livejournal. The links are in my profile. All NC-17 chapters and/or interludes will be posted at my yahoo! group since FF.Net doesn't allow the rating anymore.

Well, I think that about covers everything…

-Artemis Luna Diana-

_Footnotes:_

(1) This line is a quote from Farscape. John says it after his arrival in the Uncharted Territories in the episode Premier.

(2) Rector Lamia – Master Vampire

Rector: guider, leader, director, ruler, master

Lamia: witch, vampire

(3) when I first pictured Harry's weapon, I saw him wielding a weapon that looked as though someone had taken two swords and mashed the handles together. It wasn't until I was taking a break from writing, by playing on my Playstation2 that I realized what I had modeled his weapon after. If you've ever seen Zidane from FFIX, then you know that he alternates between using two daggers and what the game creators called a dual-bladed polearm. So, I used their name for Harry's weapon, as I've no idea if it really exists or not. (I asked around before I realized where I'd seen it and no one knew.)


	2. Chapter One: Blood Loss

**Title:** Blood

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadiana@yahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.  

**Summary:  **Thrust into the distant past and turned into a vampire against his will, Harry struggles to understand what he has become and tries to fill his one desire: to get home.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to:** Katie Bell and snapeysnapesnape for the excellent betas.

Chapter One: Blood Loss

When Harry returned to his room a few hours later, he found it empty.  He rushed into the kitchen area and found Quentin sitting relaxed at the table… alone.  "Where is she?"  Harry asked.

Quentin smiled, and Harry felt a coldness grip him.  "She was going on and on about her father and death and blood, all the usual mortal nonsense.  She was quite distraught.  I believe she went running up the east tunnel."

Harry swallowed.  "That leads outside."

"Why yes, so it does!"

Harry slammed a fist down on the table.  "You just let her go!  She's going to die if she steps into the light!"

Quentin's smile faded, and he straightened from his slouched position. He spoke each word slowly, enunciating each syllable in his anger.  "I give you a lot of leeway, boy, but never forget that I am your Sire.  I am the Rector Lamia.  You will never speak to me like that again.  Do you understand?"  When Harry didn't reply immediately, Quentin backhanded him across the face.  He stood up from the table and leaned over Harry, who lay sprawled out on the floor.  "If she does not return, then when night falls again, we will go outside to find her remains."  Quentin started to leave the room, but paused in the doorway.  "If she does return, bring her to me immediately."

Harry stared at the empty doorway.  Never had anyone struck him like Quentin had done.  And never had he felt so betrayed by someone he had respected.

***

As the time passed, Harry's hopes began to sink.  She still hadn't returned.  He didn't understand why Quentin had turned her if he was just going to let her run off the moment she woke.  He alternated between pacing and sitting on the floor where the east tunnel branched into the complex.  Quentin never came to see what he was doing.  

Harry didn't need a watch to realize that night was falling again.  He had spent the entire day at the foot of the east tunnel.  The girl had never returned.  The likelihood that she had remained in the tunnels was slim.  Tremors wracked his slim frame.  _Why?  Why had Quentin turned her and then set her loose to die?!_

Harry glanced up at Quentin's entrance.  "Night has fallen.  We will search in the area immediately around the caves.  If we can't find her remains, then we must assume that a werewolf took her before the sun rose."

Harry trembled in anger, his teeth gnawing on his lips in order to control his need to scream.  He didn't speak, but followed Quentin to the cave entrance.  When they reached the surface, a brisk wind rose briefly, bringing with it the stench of burnt flesh and hair.  Harry gagged.

Deep within the caves, Harry never noticed his altered senses, except for his vision that is.  Even after the hunt the night before, he just assumed he was able to smell the blood just because he was a vampire and that was his food.  Now he realized that not only had his vision been altered, but his sense of smell was increased.

He followed Quentin to the source of the smell.  There, lying in the undergrowth were the remains of the girl he had fed from the night before.  Her skin was black from the burns and full of marks that looked like small explosions.  Like her blood had boiled within her and exploded out.  Her hair had been a coppery red the day before, now it was black.  Even her hair had burned in the sunlight. 

Harry turned away and stumbled into the brush, vomiting.  Quentin stared dispassionately at the corpse.  He glanced over at Harry and sighed.  He walked over to him and placed a hand on his back.  Harry flinched away.

"Harry."

Harry shuddered.

"_Harry_."

"What?" he asked coldly.

Quentin sighed.  "Harry, you must understand that not everyone can be turned.  Not everyone can be saved."  Harry remained silent as Quentin began to explain.  "The blood drives them mad if they are weak.  We only add about ten vampires to the coven a year, and we lose nearly as many in the same year.  The ability to become a vampire is rare."

Harry trembled, but didn't speak.

"Harry, you had to learn this."

"I didn't need to learn it like this!"

"It's so you won't forget."

"Congratulations, you've succeeded," Harry said bitterly.

"You'll know if you can turn your victim.  However, even then there are times when you shouldn't do it."

"You lecture me now!" Harry looked pointedly at the corpse of the girl, the disgust showing on his face.

"Yes!  Harry, you _must_ learn this if you are to survive."

"Why did you do it?  Why did you turn me?!"

"Because you are the most powerful human I have ever seen.  You could single-handedly end the war!"

"I'm just a pawn to you!"

"No!  You are also my child!  I care for you, Harry."

"You care nothing for me!  And you cared nothing for her!  This lesson is only a lesson not to trust you!"  Harry stood, his legs shaky.  Quentin reached out to steady him.  "Don't touch me!" he yelled, pulling away abruptly.   He stumbled off in the direction of the caves.

Quentin sighed.  He walked over to the corpse and crouched down.  "My poor mad little girl," he said and caressed her burnt hair.  "I'm so sorry."  He picked up her body and began walking.  If her body stayed where it was, werewolves were more likely to find the cave complex.  Then his son would be in danger.  His innocent, little son.

***

Harry lay on his bed, eyes open, staring sightlessly at the wall.  Around and around his mind twisted the information Quentin had given him, with what Quentin had done.  Had time really changed so much that the death of a child meant nothing?  He said he knew the girl couldn't be turned.  If he knew that, shouldn't he have found someone else?  So the girl didn't die?  It seems stupid to kill the offspring of your food.  Harry's eyes closed at that thought and his trembling began again.  If you kill the children, how can they multiply?  Your food source will eventually run out.

Quentin had said that the ability to become a vampire was rare.  How rare exactly?  One in a hundred?  One in a thousand?  And why him?  There were others more powerful than he.  Surely Quentin must be mistaken.  The magical folk of the past seemed more powerful than those of the present: Merlin, the Founders, and the like.  Wasn't there someone Quentin had seen who was more powerful than he?  Quentin had to have seen some wizards.  He said that vampires had "occasional skirmishes" with magical folk.  

Were vampires evil?  Granted they drank the blood of humans to survive, but did that make them evil?  Why were the vampires at war with everyone?  Humans, werewolves, and wizards.  Was there anyone they weren't fighting with?  

And the werewolves.  Quentin acts as though they are more in control of themselves than Remus does.  Could whatever caused the vampires to die out, also have altered the nature of werewolves, thus making the change so much more difficult?

He needed to find a wizard or witch to talk to.  He needed one of them to help him get home.  But to do that, he'd need to reach his Daylight Years.  And to do that, he'd need to learn everything that Quentin knew.  

***

Harry left with Quentin nearly every night to hunt.  After each hunt, he would walk down to the river deep in the cave system to wash away the blood and to vomit.  He couldn't stop the parade of faces in his mind, faces of the people he had killed.  They came to him in his sleep and popped up on him when he was distracted.  When his killing list reached a hundred victims, Harry realized that he had to do something or he'd go mad from the guilt.  

"What can I do to stop seeing them?"

Quentin stared pensively at Harry.  "You have to accept what you are."

"I have accepted.  I am a blood-sucking vampire!  How much more acceptance does it take?!"

Quentin shook his head.  "You know what you are, but you haven't accepted it.  When you can finally accept that you are what you are, then and only then, will the guilt ease.  Until then, you will see their faces every time you sleep.  You'll see them at odd moments during the day.  And they will never leave you alone until you accept that what happened, had to happen."

Harry stared at Quentin.  "What happened, didn't have to happen."

"And there is your problem.  You still think of what might have been.  Accept that you cannot change things and the guilt will ease.  They won't haunt you anymore."  Quentin sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together in front of him.  "Harry, by the time you have reached your Daylight Years, you will have probably killed over thirty-six _thousand_ people.  You are a vampire.  This is what you do.  Accept it and move on."

Harry felt cold.  Thirty-six thousand.  That was just a rough estimate.  A guess, but still, very close to the truth.  Thirty-six thousand.  _Thirty-six thousand_.

***

The first thing he did was stop counting.  He'd always know a rough estimate of how many he'd killed, but he wouldn't know for sure how many.  The higher the number grew, the more the faces blurred together.  This was about survival.  This is what he had to do to live.  To get home.  To keep Voldemort from killing his friends, the people he considered family.  He had to survive for them if nothing else.

***

"Harry!  Come on!  We're nearly there!"

"Alright!"

Harry shifted his polearm to prevent it from catching on the branches overhead and glanced over at Quentin.  He flashed his sire a grin before continuing forward.  It was a bit easier for Quentin since his weapon strapped to his back and kept out of the way on its own.  A polearm is very long and since you don't carry it in your hand, it has a tendency to catch on things above and to the side of you.  Harry loved it though.  It was his favorite weapon.  His other specialties were the staff and two daggers.  So his favorite two daggers were strapped to each thigh and he used his staff as a walking stick.  His wand was hidden in his right boot.

They were moving out of the caves and joining the coven.  Quentin had told Harry to bring his weapons with him, they were unlikely to return to the caves for a very long time.  Quentin had his axe strapped to his back, his sword at his hip, and his quiver thrown over one shoulder.  His bow, he held in his right hand.

Both men also carried small knapsacks with some spare clothes in them.  Harry's bag also held his journals.  He had cast a feather-weight charm on the bag as well as a durability charm to ease the load and prevent the bag from breaking under the weight.  He had begun keeping a journal a few days after he entered his transition.  It had helped to ease the pain to write everything down on paper.  Even after he had grown to accept what he was, he still continued to record what happened in his life.

"Harry," Quentin said, the smile was in his voice as well as on his face.  "Are you ready to see it?"

"Yes."  Harry couldn't have stopped the smile from forming even if he tried.

"Then step through there."  Quentin gestured to the brush before them.

Harry pushed aside the leaves and stepped through.  "Oh.  My.  God."

The coven wasn't anything like he had imagined.  It was a city built into the forest.  From the top most tree to deep under ground.  Buildings were built into the trees themselves in a rough circle around a clearing.  In the clearing were vampires sparring, laughing, and playing.  Torches lit the area enough to see everything.  There was an entrance, he could see that led underground.  For the young ones, the ones who couldn't live above ground all the time.  

"How?"

"The elves helped us.  They taught us how to hide in the forest, to build within it, and live with it in harmony."

"The elves?"

"Yes.  You'll probably see some of them tonight.  The Rector Lamia before me, Elaine, was on very good terms with them.  It's something I have tried hard to maintain.  We need some friends; we can't fight everyone all at once."  Quentin walked forward, starting down the slope towards the others.  He glanced back at Harry over his shoulder.  "Besides, elven blood tastes like shit."

Harry laughed.

"Come on down.  Lots of people for you to meet."

"Do the elves come here a lot?"  Harry asked as they walked down towards the clearing.  "You didn't say."

"Oh.  Yes, they do actually.  They have always been very tolerant towards vampires for some reason.  They don't usually associate with humans or wizards though; I've never asked them why.  Anyway, after Elaine came into power, the tolerance turned to affection for some reason.  I don't know what she said to them or did for them to do it, but somehow she managed it.  Nowadays, it's rare if we don't have at least one elf visiting the coven."

"Quentin!" someone shouted.

Quentin and Harry looked up and saw a tall figure running towards them.  It was a woman with long black hair.  She wore dark brown trousers and a vest of the same color.  Her skin was bronzed by the sun and seemed to sparkle in the torch light.  She skidded to a stop in front of them.  Her eyes were as black as her hair.  She brushed a hand through her hair to push the loose strands away from her face, revealing a pointed ear.  Harry's eyes widened in surprise.  He didn't think that when Quentin said elves, that he meant this kind of elf.  Harry didn't even think this kind of elf existed… ever.  He thought Quentin meant house-elves.

"Hello, Rector Lamia," the elf said, flashing Quentin a smile.  "This must be your son, Harry."

"Yes, this is Harry," Quentin said proudly.

"I've heard so much about you," the elf said smiling slyly.  "You are just what I imagined."

Harry blushed.

The elf giggled.  "I'm Illiona, daughter of Lord Aliras."

Harry glanced at Quentin, who smiled at him.  "Her father is the leader of the elves that live in this forest."

"Oh," Harry said, then smiled at Illiona.  "Hello."

Illiona giggled again.  "I like him, Quentin.  And I know you've been keeping him to yourself for awhile, haven't you?"  Her eyes narrowed slightly.  "I can see why."

Harry frowned.  The elf had become serious, and after the light-heartedness she first displayed, it wasn't a comforting sight.  

"You knew, I expect?" Illiona prompted.

"Yes," Quentin replied.

"How old is he?"

"Seventeen."

Illiona shot Quentin a look of surprise that was then quickly masked.  "Hmm."  Illiona's sudden seriousness vanished as quickly as it came.  "I'll leave you then.  You've many people to meet, Harry.  Until we meet again."  The elf left before either man could respond.

When Quentin would have moved forward, Harry stopped him.  "What was that all about?"

Quentin winced.  "Not here.  I'll tell you later."

Harry scowled but released his sire.  "I hope so.  I don't like the feeling I got when you two spoke about me."

Quentin stared at him a moment before turning and continuing on towards the others. 

Harry was introduced to so many people, he felt like his head was spinning.  It was weird though, probably over eighty percent of the vampires at the coven were in the transition stage.  Another ten percent were still in the birthing stage, and of those who had reached the Daylight Years, only two were over two hundred.  

_'I thought we were immortal as long as we continued to feed,'_ Harry said mentally to Quentin.  _'Why is everyone so young?'_

_'Battles with werewolves cause heavy losses to both sides.  By the time more vampires have reached the Daylight Years, another battle takes place and we lose more lives.  Those losses don't count the minor skirmishes with werewolves, wizards, and the occasional lucky human,' _Quentin replied.  _'There hasn't been a vampire that's reached three hundred years in over a millennia.'_

_'Isn't there anything we can do to stop it?'_

_'The only thing we can do is train the children to be better than their sires.  We have to end the war if we ever expect to grow.  Our numbers stay around five hundred.'_  Quentin paused for a moment before deciding to continue.  _'Also, some of the vampires who reach their Daylight Years leave the coven and travel to other lands.  Some come back and others never return… those eventually allow themselves to die.  There are three vampires away from the coven right now.'_

_'You left the coven once too, didn't you?'_

_'Yes.  I was gone for eleven years.'_

_'Why did you come back?'_

_'I wanted to come home.'_  Quentin smiled at him.  _'It's as simple as that.'_

Harry smiled back.

"Why don't you go and find some of the younger children?  You might like talking to someone your own age," Quentin said aloud.

Harry nodded slightly.  "Okay."

Harry wandered around watching the other vampires interact.  He didn't really understand why Quentin had raised him away from the coven.  The others were all brought back to the coven and grew up together.  They spent their birthing years and their transition years together.  By the time they reached their Daylight Years, they knew themselves and each other inside and out.  They could predict exactly what the other would do in any situation.  They were so close to each other.  Harry felt jealous.  He missed Ron and Hermione.  He missed Hogwarts.  He missed his home.

"Hey!"

Harry looked up at the shout.

"Want to spar?"

Harry studied the other vampire, taking in the lean muscular body.  The man looked to be about twenty-seven or so, but Harry got the impression the man was still young.  Harry shrugged.  "Alright."

"Then come on in the circle."

Harry stepped into the circle.  "Weapon?"

The man smirked.  "I'm good with them all.  You pick."

Harry tilted his head to the side a bit.  Either the man was incredibly good or incredibly stupid.  Letting his opponent pick the weapon?  "Alright.  Just a moment, I'll get my weapon."

"Don't take too long, kid."

Harry and Quentin had set their things down in Quentin's home, which was situated at the base of one of the trees. Harry had kept his daggers, but had left his bag, his staff, and his polearm there.  Quentin had shed all of his weapons as well as bag.

Harry fetched his polearm and returned to the circle.  The man stood at the edge talking to some younger looking vampires.  When he saw Harry, he laughed.  "Kid, a big weapon ain't gonna help ya if you can't use it."  He strode over to the table near the circle and grabbed one of the polearms.

Harry didn't bother to reply.  He was a little nervous because this would be the first fight against someone other than Quentin.  He beat Quentin every time they sparred with the polearms, and he knew he was good, it was just… he didn't want to embarrass himself or Quentin.  He usually kept the right side of the polearm high and the left side pointed at the ground while he fought; it was just more comfortable to him that way..  He held the weapon ready in front of him.  

The man struck first.

Harry reacted quickly.  He brought the lower side of the polearm up, slamming it into the swinging blade.  Stepping back and twisting the blades, he slashed towards the man.  He stumbled back, away from Harry, and brought his polearm up to stop Harry's blade from slicing him in half.

Harry frowned.  The man was not very good at all.  That made things a little more dangerous.  It was stupid of him to accept if he couldn't use the double-bladed weapon well.  The man was just as likely to cut himself in half as he was to harm Harry.  He needed to end the fight quickly so as to cause the least amount of damage to both parties.

He swung the blades in a smooth windmill-like motion, crashing the blades into his opponent's weapon forcefully.  The man stumbled back and fought to keep his grip on his weapon.  Harry let the left side of the polearm drop and turned, swinging the blade around him in a wide circle, bringing the left side up as he twisted.  The upper blade crashed on the center of the other polearm, right between the man's hands.  The man yelped in surprise and dropped the polearm.  Harry let the left side drop again, swinging the right blade towards the man's head.  He stopped only an inch away from the man's neck.

Harry could tell the man was holding his breath.  He frowned.  The man thought that Harry was going to kill him.  Harry's eyes widened slightly and he stepped back, swinging the polearm to his favorite resting position: holding the weapon in his right hand behind his body with the tip of the right blade resting on the ground and the left side up in the air to the left of his head.

It was then that Harry noticed the silence.  Those gathered around the sparring ring were quiet and staring at him.  Harry was puzzled.  What was the big deal?  "What?" he asked.

"How do you do that?" someone asked.

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"Do what?" the man Harry fought repeated, shocked.  "How do you use the polearm like that?  I have never seen anyone move so fast.  You act as though it weighs nothing."

Others were murmuring their agreement.  Harry frowned again.  It's true when he first began using the weapon, he cast feather-weight charms on it, but eventually he began taking them off, building up his strength.  Now there were no feather-weight charms on his weapon.  It just wasn't heavy to him.

"May I see your weapon?" the man asked.

Harry glanced down at the point of his blade and then back up at the man.  Slowly he nodded and brought the weapon back in front of him, holding it out in a horizontal line in front of him.  The man took the blade and hefted it, trying to get a feel for the weapon.

"It's just as heavy as the one I was using, if not more so."  The man handed it back to Harry.  "How old are you?"

"Total, or how far into the transition?" he questioned.

"Either."

"Physically: I am fifteen; transition-wise: I am seventeen; total: I am thirty-six."

"You really are still a kid," the man breathed.  "I'm twenty-two years into the transition, fifty-three total."  The man shook his head.  "You've got a lot of talent, kid."

Harry shook his head.  "Please, call me Harry, not 'kid', and I've still got a lot to learn."

"I'm Jason, and it was an honor to spar with you, Harry.  We must do it again sometime, I feel I can learn much from you."

"I am no teacher," Harry protested.

Jason laughed.  "You set high standards for yourself: don't know enough to be talented, not good enough to teach.  Still, just the same, I think I'll stick around to see what you do next."

Later on, as the dawn began to approach, Harry and the others descended down into the underground dwellings.  Quentin led him to his new home after taking a quick detour to gather Harry's things from Quentin's home.  Harry set his weapons and bag down and stripped to his underclothes, collapsing onto the bed in exhaustion.

***

Harry woke quickly and effortlessly.  With his eyes closed, he sensed the room around him.  When he was confident there was nothing to surprise him, he opened his eyes.  As his senses told him, he was alone.  He gave into the desire to stretch and felt joints pop from the effort.  With a barely audible sigh, he flipped back the covers and rose from the bed.  The cool air brought goose-bumps to his skin, and he quickly dressed.  He strapped on his two daggers and left his room.  

Following the corridor up, he arrived in the common area above the dwellings.  There were a few people up and moving about, which surprised Harry a little.  Vampires only required about four hours of sleep, and he himself had nearly slept seven by his estimation.  Why weren't more people awake?

He sat down at one of the tables meant for eating with a roll and a cup of water.  While it wasn't necessary for him to eat food, it was a habit he didn't want to break and as a bonus it did give him extra energy.  He glanced up when someone sat across from him.

"Hello, Harry."

"Illonia.  Good morrow."

"I see you still eat food despite the fact you have entered your transition.  Any particular reason why?  Or did Quentin not tell you that it wasn't required?"  The elf seemed amused.

"No particular reason," Harry replied.  "Just an appreciation for solid food."

"You don't like blood then?"

Harry shook his head slightly.  "I didn't say that.  I simply said I like food.  It is in a vampire's nature to love and crave the taste of blood.  That can not be avoided even if one should wish it."

"And do you wish it?"

Harry set down his water; his fingers lightly caressed the cup.  "At one point I did.  However, it is foolish to long for the impossible.  As all vampires do, I grew up."

"Perhaps you gave up to soon."

Harry's eyes narrowed.  "Really?  Do you know something I don't?"

Illiona smiled slightly.  "Of course.  However, I'm sure there are many more things that you know that I do not."

Harry's hand stilled on the cup.  "Oh?  Like what?"

"Many things," she repeated.  She stood.  "I am returning to Raveya, the elven city.  Until we meet again, Harry."

"Until we meet again," Harry replied.

She walked towards the tunnel to the surface, then stopped and turned around.  "Harry?  Do you have a second name?  Quentin never mentioned it."

"Quentin does not know it."

Illiona smiled.  "Keep your secrets then."  She turned again and walked away.  "For now." 

Harry frowned.  How much could the elvish woman know?  And what would she do with what she did know?

Harry wasn't left to his own devices for long.  Jason and a few of his friends finally came up from the dwellings and invited him to join one of their games.  Apparently, Jason had decided that Harry was someone to hang around, and as he was the leader of one of the cliques in the coven, Harry was now part of the group.  He stayed with the other children for most of the day before Quentin came down to talk to him.  He and Harry retreated to the privacy of Harry's room to talk.

"You wanted to know what Illiona and I were talking about."

"Yes."

"Then first you must understand a few things about me and the other vampires."  Quentin paused to organize his thoughts.  "I had the potential to be a wizard, and because of this, I have the ability to sense the power – the magic – in others.  I know that you are very strong, Harry.  After a few moments in your presence, I could also sense that you had been trained to use magic.  Never had I seen one so young with so much power!  With such training!  I knew that being so young, that I could potentially sway you to join us."  Quentin seemed ill at ease.  "It was what I wanted… but when you spoke… I realized that I had to act quickly.  I couldn't risk that you might attack me."

"You turned me because you knew I was a wizard?"

"Nothing so simple.  It was because you had been trained and could still _be_ turned."

"Wizards can't be turned?"

Quentin shook his head.  "No.  They can't.  A fully trained wizard is so in-tune with their magic that to intentionally cause death is very upsetting.  They don't like to hurt others because it damages their magic."

"My magic is weakened?"  Harry whispered.  "Didn't you think at all about what you were doing to me?!  I _need_ my magic!"

"That's just it!  Harry!  If anything, your magic is growing stronger!  I don't understand it.  I had hoped that if I could convince you to join us voluntarily that your magic would only decrease a little.  I was worried when I turned you that I might have caused you to lose all of your magic.  After all, you hadn't done any spells.  Then one day while you were training, I felt a whisper of magic from the training room.  I realized that your magic was still with you!  I was so relieved!  I was afraid I had hurt you.  But, when I walked into the training room, I got an even bigger surprise.  Harry, your magic is still pure!  By now, your magic should be black and unusable.  Instead it's still pure and growing stronger.  Illiona confirmed it for me.  And your power is increasing!"

"I don't understand.  What are you saying?  Wizards can't become vampires because they can't hurt people.  Well what about Dark Wizards?  What about the killing curse?  Wizards can kill just as easily as vampires and still keep their magic."

"What are Dark Wizards?" Quentin asked slowly.

Harry blinked.  "You've never heard of a Dark Wizard?"

"No."

Harry sat there a moment in shock.  He was living in a time when it drove wizards mad to harm someone.  When there were no Dark Lords and no killing curse.  The wizarding world was at peace with themselves.  Harry shook himself out of his thoughts.  "Never mind."

Quentin frowned.

"So all Illiona and you were saying is that you knew I was a trained wizard – well, partially trained wizard – and that was a bad thing?"

"Basically, yes.  Except that when we spoke afterwards, we both agreed that we don't know why your magic is increasing or why it's still usable."

"Okay.  Why exactly is that a bad thing?"  

"Because when a wizard has been turned before, they went mad with guilt.  Something I was afraid you were going to do.  I know that you vomited every night after a hunt for the first few months.  That is what Illiona was concerned about.  That's why she asked how old you were."

Harry sat silently for a moment.  "What did you want to tell me about the other vampires?"

"Oh.  Right.  I am not the only one who had the potential to be a wizard.  There are a few others among the coven.  They will be able to sense the power within you, though I am unsure if they will realize that you have been trained.  The others, although they will be unable to tell that you are a wizard, will be unconsciously drawn to you.  Don't be surprised if you make a lot of friends, Harry.  You could also use some.  Eventually, one day, I believe that you will become the Rector Lamia.  It would be best if you had many supporters."

"I have no wish to be Rector Lamia,"  Harry replied shocked.

"Perhaps now you don't.  However, one day, I think you will be the leader of the vampires.  It will be a glorious day, my son.  It's only too bad I will miss it."

"Quentin…"

"Calm yourself, Harry.  I don't plan on dying just yet.  You shall have at least a few more years of my company before I'm killed in an uprising.  Or a werewolf battle."  Quentin had stood as he spoke and was now walking out of the room.  "Or trying to catch a meal."  Harry could hear his voice echo down the corridor as he listed ways he could potentially die.  Quentin appeared to be very accepting of his death.

Harry sighed and flopped back on his bed.  He laced his fingers together and placed them behind his head.  He lay staring up at the ceiling as if it held the answers to all of the universe's questions.

He knew why his magic had not changed.  He was from the future, where magic and morals were not connected.  If they were, Voldemort would have been rendered powerless long before he ever got to Harry's parents.  He wondered what had changed about wizards that allowed them to turn dark.  

There was one thing though that troubled him.  Illiona said that his magic was pure.  Basically that he was a light wizard.  How could that be possible with his list of victims?  How could he be anything but dark when he had killed so many?

***

"What are you doing, child?"

Harry looked up to see an older looking vampire standing in front of him.  He glanced down at the parchments in front of him.  "I'm keeping a record of what has happened to me."

"What language is that you write in?  It's not the one the Rector wishes us all to learn."

"It is my native language."

"You are a very private person.  I can understand that.  I am one as well.  Those who are alike are sometimes drawn to each other.  Continue to write, young one.  I wish nothing more than to sit with you a bit."

Harry wrote a little more before pausing and looking up at his fellow vampire.  "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

The vampire laughed.  "Boy, don't you know it's disgraceful to ask a woman her age?"

Harry smiled.  "If it helps, you don't look a day over thirty."

"Oh get on with you!  I was turned when I was thirty-six."  The woman smiled at Harry.  "I'm two hundred and fourteen."

Harry gave a low whistle.  "I envy what you must know."

"On a quest for knowledge then?"

"Yes.  I guess you could say that."

"You're different from the other young ones then.  They all want power.  Even the Rector is not immune to its call.  Do you want to be the Rector Lamia one day, boy?"

"No," Harry replied honestly.

"I believe you.  Unfortunately, the responsibility tends to fall on those who do not want it.  They tend to be the greatest of us.  I would prepare yourself.  If you live long enough, one day, the burden might fall on you."

"You are not the first to tell me thus," Harry replied slowly.  "It worries me that I seem to garner such attention."

"I sympathize with you, young one.  I was most fortunate to avoid the call to lead.  I fear that you will not be so lucky."

Harry was silent a moment.  "Why do you concern yourself with me?"

The woman looked at him appraisingly.  "Perhaps because you remind me of my mate when he was young." She remained quiet for a bit.  "You may call me Lorna, young one, and I will teach you what I know."

Harry blinked in surprise.  "Thank you.  Thank you very much."  He had already heard tales of the older ones.  Lorna was considered the wiser of the two women.  Aluva was more personable but did not have the knowledge that Lorna possessed.  Harry hadn't realized which of the two women he'd been speaking to.  "I'm Harry," he introduced himself.

Lorna laughed.  "I know who you are, child.  When you grow up, perhaps I will call you by your name.  Until then, you are still a young one to me."

Harry blushed.  "Sorry."

Lorna smiled.  "I take no offense.  Continue your writing, little one.  I will speak with you again."

"Alright."

Lorna stood and left him to his journals.  Harry watched her walk away.  He wondered if Lorna would have approached him if he hadn't been a wizard.  If he hadn't been somehow drawing the other vampires to him. _ 'You shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth,'_ he scolded himself.  He'd learn all he could from the older woman and be grateful for the opportunity.

***

{27 years later}

"Harry!  Tell us a story!"

"Please, Harry!"

"A story about magic!"

"Please!"

"Alright, alright!"  Harry grinned.  "I'll tell you a story."

"You tell the best stories, Harry.  Even better than Aluva."

Harry blushed.  "Flattery will get you two stories."

"Yea!"

Clustered around the forty-four year old vampire were six children, aging between four and ten.  The six were vampire born and thus really as old as they looked.  Harry was a favorite among the younger children.  Even the somewhat older ones preferred to learn from him than ask one of the vampires in their Daylight Years to teach them.  

He spent much of his time teaching, but when he managed to drag himself away from the younger ones, he was with Jason and his gang or with Lorna.  At two-hundred and forty-one, the eldest vampire had become a true recluse, speaking only to Harry and to Quentin.  Harry was saddened because he knew that Lorna wished to die.  Her mate had died over a hundred years ago, and she wanted to join him.  When the next battle against the werewolves happened, Harry believed she would allow herself to die fighting, as her mate had died before her.

Jason, on the other hand, had become a close friend.  Despite the fact that Jason was older, the man appeared to consider Harry his superior.  Jason's other companions followed his lead and respected Harry above everyone else save the Rector Lamia.  He had managed to acquire a fan club when he wasn't looking.

He had not seen Illiona since the morning after his arrival at the coven.  She had not returned to the coven at all.  Quentin had visited Raveya, but hadn't been able to determine why she wouldn't visit the coven.  Or so he told Harry anyway.

His relationship with Quentin had altered significantly upon their arrival at the coven.  He rarely saw his sire and soon realized that his upbringing was very different from most of the other vampires.  Only the vampire-born were so closely taught by their parents.  Those who were turned, only spent their birthing years and the first two years of the transition with their sires.  After that, they were raised by the coven as a whole.  He was still trying to determine if he got the better end of the deal.

He had a few brief flings, nothing that meant anything.  On his part, there were multiple reasons not to get involved with anyone.  On his companion's part there was just the main reason of every vampire in the transition.  They simply weren't ready to bond.  Occasionally there were vampires that bonded before they reached their Daylight Years, but it wasn't often.  And when it did occur, it happened in the upper years, around ninety or so.

The more time passed, the more Harry wondered if he should even be trying to get home.  Then he would think of Voldemort and remember.  Even if he was never comfortable back in his own time, the people he loved would be safe.  All he needed to do was survive to his Daylight Years and seek out some wizards.  Then he could go home.  There were only fifty-six years left.

***

{9 years later}

"There is too much noise here," Harry said over the sound of the music.  "I'm going to go for a walk."

"Don't get lost," Jason replied back.

"I won't be long."  Harry turned away from the celebration.  Quentin had turned two-hundred and eleven today.

He walked out of the coven and into the forest.  He could see a little light still from the many torches in the clearing.  He sat down on a fallen long just out of ear shot of all the noise.

**'Making all that noise.  Some people have no respect for others.'**

Harry looked around.  There wasn't anyone around him that he could sense.  Was he imagining things now?

'I came this way to get away from all the noise those beastly werewolves were making and instead of silence I find the noise all those bloody vampires are making.  What does a snake have to do to get some peace and quiet?'

Harry blinked.  He looked around on the ground for the snake.  He spotted its head poking out of the log he was sitting on.  He hadn't even noticed it when he sat down.  

'Excuse me?  Did you say there were werewolves close by?' 

**'What was that?'  **The snake slithered out of the log and coiled around itself to raise its head enough to see Harry.  **'You say something?'**

'Yes.  I asked, did you see werewolves around here?' 

**'Not around here.  About a day or so south of here.  They're gathering for another one of those dumb battles with vampires they seem so fond of.'  **The snake tilted to the side a bit.  **'Hey, aren't you a vampire?'**

'Yes.  Are you sure they're gathering?' 

'Well, of course I'm sure.  I wouldn't have said it otherwise, stupid.'

'Would you mind coming with me?' 'What for?' 

**'We had no idea that the werewolves were massing.  I'd like it if you could come with me and tell everyone what you saw,' **Harry replied patiently.

The snake raised its head importantly.  **'I suppose I could do that.'**

'Do you mind if I carry you?' 

**'No.  I should be carried as a matter of fact.'  **Harry reached down and picked up the snake as it continued to talk.  **'I believe I shall designate you as my official carrier.  Wherever I chose to go, you shall carry me there.'**

Harry rolled his eyes and headed back towards the coven.

"Harry!  Where did you find that snake?  And how did you catch it?" one of the young vampires asked excitedly.

"Not now, Lucius.  I'll tell you later."

"Promise?"

"Promise,"  Harry replied over his shoulder as he hurried to Quentin.

Their telepathic bond had faded when Harry turned twenty, so he was unable to tell Quentin without everyone else finding out unless he could drag Quentin away to a more private area.

"Quentin, could I speak with you a moment?"

"Harry!  Why must you be so serious?  This is a party!  Rolvin and some of the guys went and caught us some humans, we'll have blood drinks made up soon.  Sit down and have a few."

"Sir, I really must speak with you."

"Well, alright, speak then!"

"In private sir."

"Oh, Harry, no serious stuff tonight.  It's my birthday!"

"Rector Lamia, this is a matter of some urgency."

Quentin frowned.  Harry had never addressed him by his title before.  He then noticed the snake wrapped around Harry's arm.  "Alright."  He led Harry away to a more quiet area.  "What's going on."

"Sir, I am a Parselmouth."

"A what?"

Harry looked slightly helpless for a moment before he pulled himself together.  This wasn't the time to worry about timelines.  "It means I can talk to snakes."

Quentin looked down at the snake wrapped around Harry's arm.

"Yes," Harry said.  "That means I talked to this one.  He says the werewolves are gathering south of the coven."

"No one has sensed any werewolves," Quentin replied.  "I think you've had too much to drink."

'How many werewolves did you see?' 

**'I wasn't counting!' **the snake protested.

'Guess!' 'Three hundred or so?' 

Harry looked back at Quentin.  The man was staring at him in surprise.  "Now, I think I've had too much to drink."

"Quentin, he didn't count, but he thinks there are about three-hundred werewolves or so there."

"There is no way that many werewolves could get close to the coven without us knowing about it."

"Are you sure?"

Quentin stared at him a moment.  "Shit!" Quentin ran over to Rolvin, who was one of Quentin's closest friends as well as one of the many scouts.  Quentin quickly whispered his instructions, and Harry saw the man's face pale before he dashed off and into the forest, heading to the south of the coven.

Rolvin returned about thirty minutes later.  He panted out something to Quentin which caused the Rector to pale.  Quentin turned to the celebrating vampires.  "All children get underground now!" he yelled.  "Get all the children underground!  Everyone else, to me!  Werewolf attack!"

Harry raced to the caverns with the other children.  All the vampires still in the birthing years and the transition stage were seeking shelter underground.  This battle would last well into the day.  Only those who had reached their Daylight Years would be fighting.  There were two-hundred and twelve below ground, and three-hundred and seven above ground.  The vampires had barely recovered from the last werewolf battle, finally getting more vampires in the Daylight Years than in the transition stage.  This battle would knock them back again.  

Harry stood near the tunnel entrance, armed with his polearm.  As one of the best fighters, he was there in case any werewolves managed to enter the coven and tried to get to the children.  He had placed the snake in his room when he'd fetched his polearm.  Now all he could do was wait.  At his side was Jason and their friends: Olivia Waters, Tomas, and Lara.  Also guarding the entrance were a few of the older children: Eric McGonagall, Alcoyne Malfoy, and Peter.

"Does anyone know how many werewolves are attacking?" Tomas asked.

"About three-hundred or so," Harry replied.

"Oh, Gods," Olivia whispered.

***

"How long has it been?" Lara asked.

"Eight hours, I think," Jason replied.

"What do you think is happening?" Tomas asked staring up at the ceiling.  "Do you think we're winning?"

"Who knows," Peter said glumly.

"We'd better be," Eric said.  "If not, they'll be coming down here in the hopes of ridding the world of all vampires."

"There are ten vampires away from the coven," Alcoyne said.  "It's possible that even if we all die, vampires will live on."

"I don't think we're going to be dying today," Harry replied dryly.

"Why are you so confident?" Peter asked.

"I just am," Harry replied.

The group fell silent again until Olivia cried out.  Olivia was the youngest among those guarding the tunnel and so the first to feel the effects.  Harry bit back a cry of his own as his stomach clenched in hunger.  He panted trying to keep from whimpering.  The Rector Lamia was dead.  There was no one stifling the bloodlust.

Harry snarled and drew his wand.  He cast a barrier spell on the tunnel before any of those beside him could make a break for the surface.  He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his stomach.  He rested his forehead on the ground and fought to calm the craving within him.  He could hear at least four of his fellow guardians smashing themselves into his barrier.  He could hear the pounding of footsteps coming towards him from below.  The children wanted to feed.  He sat up slightly and cast another barrier spell.  This time to prevent the children from killing them in their efforts to reach the surface.  It was likely that some of the children were going o be trampled and killed.  Someone above ground needed to assume the role of Rector Lamia before the vampires ended up killing themselves.

***

It was probably only ten minutes later, but it felt like an eternity.  Harry could feel the burning in his gut begin to abate.  Whomever had become the Rector in Quentin's place had calmed their bloodlust.  

Without the ringing in his ears, Harry began to hear the whimpering from those around him and farther off, the crying of the younger children.  He sat up.  Olivia, Lara, Peter, and Tomas were lying by the barrier.  They were the ones whimpering.  He looked around and saw Eric and Alcoyne stumbling to their feet.  Jason looked over at him.

"Alright there, Harry?"

"I think so.  You?"

"I think so."

They both stood up slowly.  Harry took down the lower barrier and stumbled down towards the little ones.  He had been correct in his assessment.  The children closest to the barrier had been trampled.  He dropped down beside the one closest to him and felt for a pulse.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jason stumble towards the child closest to him. 

The vampires still somewhat able to function were trying to help the youngest among them: the ones who were affected the most by the loss of the Rector Lamia.  Harry held his wand in a shaky hand.  He managed to cast a few healing spells on the child in front of him before moving onto the next.  

The faces blurred together.  Some were easily healed with a bit of spit and others needed spells.  A vampire's saliva held healing properties.  A benefit for when you needed to save your meal for later consumption.  The saliva healed most cuts, gashes, and scrapes in seconds.  Even if it was used in more serious injuries that required more than just spit, it still could tip the balance in the favor of living.

When he could barely stand, Harry stumbled away from the children and returned to the entrance.  He brought down the barrier in the tunnel and put away his wand.  He didn't even feel it when he hit the ground.  He'd passed out.

***

When Harry woke, he found himself in his room, lying on his bed.  He moved and his muscles sang in protest.

'Stop moving.'

Harry stopped.  He blinked, trying to figure out who had said that, then remembered what had happened the day before.  His heart sank.  Quentin, his sire, was dead.

**'How long have I been here?'** he asked the snake.

'I don't know.  A day?  It's kind of hard to tell time without the sun.'

**'You get use to it,'** Harry replied.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up and saw Olivia Waters standing in his doorway.  "Olivia."

"Harry, you're awake."  Olivia quickly entered his room and knelt down by his bed.  "We've been so worried about you.  You passed out in the tunnel.  You saved so many of the children yesterday.  The adults who are left have been asking after you since the battle ended."

"What happened?"

"We won, but… we lost so many.  Only seventy six returned from the battle.  The werewolves suffered just as many losses.  Our peoples must once more try to recover from this."

"Who is the Rector Lamia?"

Olivia looked down at her folded hands.  She hesitated.  "I'm sorry, Harry.  It's Michael Donavan."

Harry closed his eyes.  "We're doomed."

"Harry, he's the Rector now.  We must respect him."

"He will lead us to ruin."  Harry opened his eyes.  "What of Lorna?"

Olivia shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry took a shaky breath.  "I have lost my sire, both mentors, and my confidante all in one day."

"I don't know what to say, Harry, to ease your pain…"

"There is nothing you can do, Olivia.  Just as there is nothing I can do."  He closed his eyes as they threatened to overflow with tears.  "Please leave me.  I wish to be alone."

"Alright."

Harry rolled over onto his side as he sensed his friend leave the room.  He tried to choke back his tears, but it only seemed to worsen them.  He felt the snake curl up beside him as he sobbed.

'There, there.  Don't cry.  Everything will be alright.  It will all get better soon.'

***

TBC…

A/N:

On Harry's age:  If anyone has actually been doing the math on Harry's age, you've probably had a bit of difficulty matching up the numbers.  This would be because I never flat out specified how many years he spent in the birthing stage so here is the info: Harry went back in time when he was fifteen.  He spent four years in the birthing stage, and at the moment fifty-three years have passed in his transition stage.  This means he is seventy-two total.

Concerning some of the questions you all had:  uhhh…I'm not telling!  Some of you, though I will not say who, have guessed correctly on some points of the story.  As I said, I will not say who or what, though.  You are free to consider and think about it as much as you want.  Also, you are free to discuss it amongst each other at my group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/HuntressSmiles

I have placed a picture of Harry's polearm up at my group as well.  I placed it within the file holding this particular story rather than placing it within the group's photos section.  Feel free to check it out.  You'll need to join the group though to see it.

As you can see, we are flying through the time basically as we get Harry into his Daylight Years.  By the end of the second chapter, Harry will be out of the transition stage and into his Daylight Years.  Also, you can see that Harry is the main focus of this story, and all the other characters are very likely to be killed off.  There will be no Mary Sues and the like in this fic.  While some characters will hang around till the end, all characters that are not cannon are minor and should you all ever think they are getting out of hand, don't hesitate to tell me.  I want to make sure they behave themselves.

Also at the beginning of chapter two, we will learn why Harry doesn't like the new Rector Lamia and what he will do to rectify his situation.  We'll also see the reappearance of our friendly neighborhood elf: Illiona.  We'll also discover what it is exactly she knows about Harry.

As always, please feel free to ask me questions.  If you're having trouble understanding something, then please let me know.  Unfortunately, questions are more likely to be answered if you ask them at my group than if you ask me in an e-mail.  I have the very bad habit of forgetting to respond back to e-mails.  If you are one of those people who sent me an e-mail and didn't get a response back, I'm sooooo sorry.  If you did get a response back… you lucky dogs!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or sent me an e-mail.  All encouragement is appreciated.

~Artemis Luna Diana~


	3. Chapter Two: Spilled Blood

**Title:** Blood

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadiana@yahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.  

**Summary:  **Thrust into the distant past and turned into a vampire against his will, Harry struggles to understand what he has become and tries to fill his one desire: to get home.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to:** Katie Bell and snapeysnapesnape for the excellent betas.

Chapter Two: Spilled Blood

_It was dark.  Nearly pitch black.  There was no moon, and the clouds overhead blocked the stars.  It was a perfect night to hunt.  Harry glanced over at his companions.  Jason and Olivia were on this hunt with him.  The two vampires flashed him equally excited grins.  Harry smirked._

Harry and Quentin were the only vampires allowed to hunt whenever they wanted.  Quentin: because he was the Rector, and Harry: because Quentin allowed it.  Everyone else was divided into groups and assigned times.  It wasn't wise for everyone to leave all at once.  The group assigned to tonight numbered fifty-six in all.  The groups were then broken into sections that contained seven vampires apiece.  Each section went in a different direction.  Each had a different destination.  Harry's group was headed towards a small village two days' walk from the coven.  They would walk till an hour before dawn and take cover in one of the many caves that littered the way.  They had left the coven two days ago.  Tonight was the night of the hunt.

_Besides Harry, Jason, and Olivia were Alcoyne Malfoy, Eric McGonagall, Ormond, Elspeth, and Michael Donavan.  Harry knew Alcoyne and Eric pretty well.  The two vampires were some of the best fighters still in the transition, and since Harry was one as well, they knew each other somewhat well.  Ormond and Elspeth were two vampires he didn't know very well, but they seemed all right.  Michael Donavan was the group's guardian for this hunt.  He was one hundred and seven._

_They crept up silently on the sleeping village.  Jason, Olivia, and he chose one house.  Alcoyne and Eric chose another, and Ormond, Elspeth, and Michael Donavan chose another.  Inside the house that Harry and his friends chose were three adults and four children.  The vampires chose the adults and dispatched them quickly and quietly.  Feasting with a wary eye on the area the children slept in._

_In the house that Alcoyne and Eric chose were four adults and one child.  They chose the two oldest of the four adults.  They were silent and efficient killers.  _

_Harry and his group crept out of the house and waited beside it for one of the other groups to come out.  Alcoyne and Eric emerged and approached them.  They waited a few minutes more before beginning to get antsy.  "I'll go," Harry volunteered._

_"I'll come with you," Jason whispered back._

_Harry nodded, and the two approached the house Michael's group had entered.  They snuck in and nearly gasped in horror.  Michael's group had chosen a house with four adults and six children.  All ten humans were awake and tied up, including gags._

_"What are you doing?" Harry hissed._

_Elspeth and Ormond both looked a little ill.  Whatever this was, was Michael's idea._

_"I'm about to eat, do you mind?" Michael returned lazily._

_"Yes, I mind!  This is not how we hunt!  You've no need for this much blood!"_

_"Go away, little Harry, or find yourself without your head attached."_

_Jason grabbed Harry's arm as he started to reach for his dagger.  Harry scowled at him, but nodded and dropped the grip on his blade.  "Make no mistake," Harry said to Michael.  "The Rector Lamia will hear of this monstrosity."_

_Michael glared at him.  _

_Harry glanced at the antsy vampires in the corner.  "You two should eat."_

_The two nodded at him and circled warily around Michael and chose two adults.  They fed and then fled the house.  Michael chose the youngest child and then stalked out saying, "Take care of the rest, little prince."_

_Harry looked at the seven remaining humans.  The adults were in shock, and the children were crying softly.  "Jason, leave."_

_"Harry, you shouldn't have to do this on your own."_

_"Leave."_

_Jason sighed and left the house.  Harry drew his wand.  "Obliviate."_

Harry woke up abruptly, his eyes snapping open.  He fought to catch his breath.  

When he had become a vampire, something odd had happened to his dreams.  He never had imaginary dreams anymore; his dreams were either memories or, rarely, dreams of the future.  He had been very unsure about speaking with Quentin about it, but eventually he had.  Quentin said that all vampires dreamed about the past, but as far as he knew, no one had dreamed about the future.  They figured it must have something to do with his being a wizard.  The dreams of the future were ones of the near-future.  They usually happened the day after the dream.  Most of the time, it was just conversations, sometimes it was incidents that occurred.  For example, he dreamed one night of a brawl between Alcoyne and Eric.  The following day, it occurred.  

This last dream, however, was no vision of the future.  Instead it was the memory of his first dealing with the new Rector Lamia.  Michael Donavan was a cold, unfeeling man.  As a vampire, he was a sadistic murderer.  He enjoyed killing.  He enjoyed terrifying and harming those he would feed off of.  Harry knew that Quentin had shared his concerns about Michael long before Harry had met him, and long before Michael had reached his Daylight Years.  Quentin, however, hadn't done anything to him in the hopes that reaching his Daylight Years would calm the man.  Harry knew that Quentin regretted it.

The vampires had few laws, but those they did have were strictly followed and enforced.  While there was no action taken against a vampire who killed a vampire in the transition (it was considered weeding out the weak), the vampire would be tortured and killed if he killed a fellow vampire in the birthing or the Daylight Years.  When Michael turned one hundred, he became untouchable.  

**'Are you awake?'**

**'Yes.'**

**'People keep coming in here,'** the snake complained.

**'Have they said anything?'**

**'Nothing I understood.'**

**'Yea, I suppose not.'**

The snake slithered up and coiled on his chest.  **'What's your name anyway?'**

**'Harry.'**

The snake touched Harry's chin with its tongue.  **'Harry,'** it repeated.  It straightened up.  **'I haven't chosen my name yet.  You may call me what you will.'**

Harry smiled slightly.  **'Thanks.'**

"Harry?"

Harry glanced up expecting to see Olivia again.  "Illiona."

The elf entered his room and sat down at the foot of his bed.  The snake slithered off of his chest, and he sat up.

"Who is your friend?" she asked.

"She hasn't chosen her name yet."

She nodded and then sat quietly, studying him.  "They know," she said suddenly.

"Who is they and what do they know?" Harry asked warily.

"The elder vampires know that you are a wizard.  Your liberal use of magic to protect the younger vampires gave it away."

"I did what had to be done," Harry said furiously.  "I wasn't about to let them all die!"

"What you did was commendable, but unwise."  Illiona placed a slim-fingered hand on his knee.  "You cannot stay here while Michael Donavan is the Rector Lamia."

"Where can I go?  I am still in my transition.  I can't survive on my own, no matter how much I know or how good I am as a fighter."

"Come with me to Raveya."

"Go with you to the elven city?  Why?"

"We can protect you until he is no longer the Rector Lamia."

"I could end up staying there indefinitely."

"He will not be the Rector Lamia for long, Harry.  The other vampires will only stand it so long before they revolt against him."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"What other choice do you have?"  She smiled sadly.  "If you stay, he will kill you or use you.  He could have you use your magic against those who would rise against him.  You could end up killing someone you consider a friend.  Do you want that?"

Harry was silent a moment.  "What I want," he said slowly, "is to go home.  However, that goal seems to be getting further and further out of reach."

"If it's what you want, Harry," Illiona said.  "Then one day you will go home.  Of that I have no doubt."

Harry snorted.  "I'm glad someone is confident about it."  Harry focused on her.  "I will go with you to Raveya, Illiona.  I only hope I do not come to regret my decision."

She stood.  "You will not regret it, Harry.  We must leave as soon as you've spoken to the elders and the Rector."

"Alright."

Harry stood and began gathering his things.  He glanced warily at Illiona before drawing his wand and casting shrinking and featherweight charms on his belongings.  She seemed very interested in his wand, and he was suddenly struck by a curious thought.  _'Did wizards use wands in this time?  Or did they use something else to focus the magic?'_  He shrunk all but his two daggers and placed his belongings in his pockets.  He strapped the two daggers to his thighs and picked up the snake.  

**'Coil around my arm,'** Harry instructed.

**'Don't drop me,'** the snake muttered and did as Harry suggested.

"I'm ready."

"Then it's time to meet with the elders."

Harry followed Illiona out of the room and down the corridor to the common area above the dwellings.  With his appearance came silence.  Soon the elders sent the children down into the dwellings.  Jason and Olivia stopped to speak with him.

"Harry," Jason said softly.  He smiled slightly.  "You are a man of many secrets and talents.  Why doesn't it surprise me to learn you are a wizard?"  He took Harry's arm in a firm grasp.  "I'm always here if you need anything."

"I'm glad for your support, my friend," Harry replied gruffly, holding back his tears.

"Harry… I didn't know earlier… when I came by… Jason told me a little while ago…" She flung herself in his embrace.  "Oh, Harry!  I don't care if you're a wizard or not!  You're my friend!  If you need anything, you've only to ask."  When she pulled away, she was crying.

"Thanks, Olivia," Harry said and brushed away a few tears of his own.  "No matter what, you two are my friends.  Don't forget that."

"You two should go," Illiona said quietly.  "Harry needs some time to regain his composure before he faces the elders."

Harry's friends embraced him and then descended down deeper into the caves.  Harry took a deep breath and slowly released it.  A few more calming breaths and he was ready to face the gathered assembly.  Every vampire in the Daylight Years that survived the battle was gathered in a half circle waiting for him.  Harry walked to them calmly with his head held high.  Illiona was only two steps behind him and to his right.

Michael Donavan sat in the middle of the circle, slightly above everyone else, emphasizing his position as Rector Lamia.  After a moment, one of the vampires stood and walked towards him, stopping about fifteen feet away.  It was Donny McGregor.  Now that Lorna and Aluva were dead, Donny was the oldest vampire in the coven.

"Harry."

"Donny."

"Yesterday during the battle, Quentin Smith was killed.  With the loss of the Rector Lamia, all those who were not in their Daylight Years and some who are were struck down by the bloodlust.  The bloodlust was so overwhelming that they didn't care that stepping into the sunlight would kill them, yet not a single one left the caves.  Can you explain that?"

"I cast a barrier on the cave's entrance to prevent anyone from leaving," Harry replied firmly without hesitation.

"You cast a spell?"

"Yes."

"Are you saying that you are a wizard?"

"I am a partially trained wizard, yes."

"Why did you not inform anyone of this?"

"Quentin Smith knew as did Illiona of the elves."

"Illiona," Donny addressed the woman.  "Daughter of Lord Aliras, is what this vampire speaks true?"

"Yes.  I knew that Harry was a wizard.  I also know that Quentin knew.  We spoke of Harry's magic upon three separate occasions."

"Did he tell you why he kept it from the other vampires?" Donny asked as the other vampires' mutterings began to get louder.

"Yes.  He was worried that someone would take advantage of Harry while he was still in his transition.  Once Harry had reached his Daylight Years, he was going to tell everyone.  Until then, he told Harry to make sure no one found out."

Donny was silent a moment, as were the other vampires.  Harry glanced at Michael.  The Rector was looking decidedly angry.  Donny's gaze settled on Harry, and he smiled slightly.  "Then since you were following the orders of the Rector Lamia, this is no longer necessary.  However, you are not to use your magic without the consent of the Rector Lamia."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

Michael stood.  "You are forbidden to use your magic.  If you use it for any reason, you will be killed immediately."

The other vampires stared at Michael in shock, then glanced warily at Harry.  Harry nodded briskly.  "I understand," he said aloud, but silently added _'Asshole.'_

Michael smiled smugly.  "Good."

"If that is all?" Harry prompted.

"You are dismissed," Michael said lazily.

Harry turned and Illiona fell into step beside him.  "Quickly," she whispered.  "We have only three hours till dawn."

Harry and Illiona slipped out to the tunnel that led to the surface unnoticed by anyone.  They ran up the tunnel and out into the upper coven.  They quickly hurried out of the clearing and into the forest.  They didn't need to worry about one of the older vampires seeing them since they had all gathered for Harry's inquest. 

"Hurry!"

They ran through the forest; decades of practice made them silent runners.  Harry followed the elven princess, hoping that he wasn't following her to his death.  Quentin had trusted her, and for that reason only, so did he.  But that trust was tenuous, and could be easily shattered.  Harry was hoping desperately that she wouldn't betray him.  

They ran for nearly two hours before Illiona led him to a small cave.  "We'll stay here for the day."  She sat down on the floor, leaning up against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms loosely around her legs with her right hand holding her left wrist.  "Once night falls again, I'll use my magic to transport us to Raveya."

"Why didn't you do that earlier?" Harry asked, sitting down across from her, Indian-style.  He wasn't breathing hard, his endurance was extremely high, a benefit of being a vampire.

"You know many things about magic, Harry.  You've been trained.  You know what magic can do.  The others do not.  We don't want them knowing too much too soon."

"I understand."

"I know you do."  Illiona paused a moment.  "You know many things, Harry Potter."

Harry froze a moment in shock.  "I have never spoken that name.  How do you know it?"

"I know many things too, Harry Potter.  The Boy Who Lived."  

Harry remained silent.

"We know things about you, Harry Potter, that don't make sense.  Why are you known by that title?  Why is your magic pure after so many killings?  Why do you have the ability to speak to snakes?  Why do you use a wand instead of a familiar to focus your magic?  Why did you learn from many teachers instead of one?  We don't know these things.  We know that you are important and must be kept alive at all costs.  We know that you are more powerful than any wizard alive or dead.  Only your children could be as powerful.  Something happened when you became a vampire.  Something that changed your magic and made it something that frankly I fear very much.  What are you Harry Potter?  And where do you come from?"

"How do you know those things?" Harry whispered in shock.

"The Waters of Raveya show many things."

Harry stared down at his lap.  Slowly he raised his head and met her gaze.  "I am Harold Albus Potter, son of James and Lily Potter.  I am a fifth-year student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  I was born over two thousand years in the future."

Illiona stared at him in surprise.  "Why didn't I see it before?  It should have been so obvious.  Why are you here, Harry?  Why did you come into the past?"

"I don't know!  One moment I was casting a light spell and the next moment I found myself in the past being turned into a vampire!  I never asked to come here; I never wanted to!  All I want is to go home, back to my time!  My friends are in danger, I need to be there to protect them!"  Harry stood abruptly and began to prowl around the cave.  "I have no idea what dragged me into the past and because of that I can't reverse it.  I don't know enough about time magic to send myself home, and I haven't met any wizards since I've arrived.  Vampires don't know anything about wizarding magic, a werewolf would kill me before I had a chance to speak, and I know next to nothing about elves of your kind.  I've had no one I could ask for help from."

"The wizards of this time don't know anything about time magic, Harry," Illiona said regretfully.  "They can't even pause time or slow it down.  Elves can slow time and pause it, but we cannot move through it.  We can't help you either."

"So what am I suppose to do?" Harry asked brokenly.

"The only thing you can do: wait."

"Wait?"

"You are immortal are you not?  You look the same as you did when you disappeared, do you not?  Wait until someone has figured out how to travel through time safely and then go.  You can return at the exact moment you left and slip back into your life.  You will of course still be a vampire, but you have grown comfortable with that I think."

"Yes," Harry said slowly.  "I have."  He sat back down.  "You realize of course that I don't want anyone to know about me."

"Yes.  I will keep your secret from all but two people."

"Oh?" Harry prompted irritated.

"I must tell my father.  As the leader of Raveya he must know."

Harry nodded.  "I understand.  Who is the other?"

"My mate, Skya.  I hold no secrets from him."

Harry smiled slightly.  "That's admirable."  He was silent a moment.  "They will not tell anyone?"

"No.  They will keep silent."

Harry nodded.  "Alright."

They sat quietly a moment and then Illiona smiled.  "Unlike you, vampire prince, I need more than four hours of sleep.  Good day."

Harry smiled back.  "Good day."

Illiona lay down and pillowed her head on her hands.  She fell asleep almost immediately.  Harry stood and walked over to one of the walls and sat back down.  He leaned back on the wall and closed his eyes.  He felt the grief begin to rise again, and drew a shaky breath.  _'Why did this happen?  Why did Quentin have to die?  I knew that Lorna wouldn't survive, but I wasn't ready for Quentin to go.  I've lost them both…'_

***

{2 years later}

"Harry!"

"Yeah?"

"Come here!  I've got a surprise for you!"

Harry frowned.  He stood up from his desk and set his quill aside.  He walked out of his quarters and up towards where the sound of Illiona's voice was coming from.  He found Illiona and Skya standing with an elderly man.  Harry felt a stir in his magic.  The man was a wizard.  Harry looked at the three warily.  "What's going on?"

"Harry, this is Newt McGonagall.  He has agreed to apprentice you in magic."

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock.  "What?  Really?"  Harry smiled.  "Alright!  When do we start?"

Newt smiled at his enthusiasm.  "We can start now, if you want."

"Yes!  Most definitely!"

"We'll leave you two alone," Skya said chuckling.

"Thanks!" Harry said and embraced the two elves before they left.

"Why don't we go to your home to begin?" Newt suggested.

"Okay."  Harry led Newt to his quarters.  

"Illiona tells me you're a vampire," Newt said conversationally.

"Yes," Harry replied warily.

"So how old are you?"

"I'm fifty-five years into the transition."

"So you're still young," Newt commented.  The man finally seemed to notice his unease.  "My brother is a vampire: Eric McGonagall," he explained.  "So don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're Eric's brother?" Harry asked astonished.  "And you still keep in contact with him?"

"Of course, I'm still in contact with him!  I'm not going to start hating him just because he's had the misfortune of being turned.  He's my older brother; he's always looked out for me."

"How old are you?" Harry asked curious.

"Me?  I'm seventy-six years old.  It helps being a wizard, you know."

Harry smiled.  "I'll bet it does."

"Well," Newt said when they reached Harry's quarters.  "The first step is to get you a familiar."  Newt sat down in one of the chairs by Harry's desk, and Harry sat down at the desk.  "Your familiar will be your focus to control your magic and will live as long as you do.  Nothing can kill it except your death."  Newt smiled wryly.  "Since you are a vampire, I'd choose wisely.  You'll be with it for a very long time."

Harry nodded.  "What else?"

"Your familiar will share a telepathic bond with you.  This is so that you can call it to you when you need it.  As long as the distance isn't too great, you don't need your familiar present to do magic."

"How far away?"

"A day's walk?  I've never tested it."

"What can I use for a familiar."

"In theory, you could use any animal.  However, most wizards chose one of the following: an owl, a hawk, a cat, a rat, or a toad."

Harry nodded.  "Okay."  Harry thought.  If he were at home, he'd have chosen Hedwig.  Of course that was a rather stupid thought, if he were at home, he wouldn't need to get a familiar to hide his wand.  That left only one choice.  "I'll be right back," he said and stood.

He walked into his bedroom and flipped the covers back on his bed.  There coiled in the center of the bed was the snake he had met two years ago.  

**'Go away, I'm sleepy!'**

**'I need your help.'**

The snake lifted its head and looked at him.  **'What's wrong?'**

**'I need a familiar, and I'd like you to be it.'**

**'What is a familiar?'**

Harry didn't notice Newt come to the door**.  'A familiar would focus my magic so I could use spells.'**

**'What happened to your wand?'**

**'I have to hide it.  I can't let anyone know that I have it.  I need a familiar.  You are my first choice.'**

The snake was silent.  **'Does it hurt?'** it asked softly.

'I don't know.'

The snake coiled tighter and then relaxed.  **'Okay.  I'll help you, Harry.'**

Harry smiled.  **'Thanks.'**  He held out his arm and the snake slithered on.

**'But I expect something in return,'** it said pompously.

**'Oh, like what?'**

**'A dozen freshly caught mice.'**

Harry laughed.  **'Deal.'**  He turned and stopped as he spotted Newt staring at him.  

"You can speak to snakes?"

"Yes."

"That's not a vampire trait is it?  Eric never said anything about that."

"No, it's something I'm just able to do."

"Will it be your familiar?"

"Yes."  Harry paused.  "She wants to know if it will hurt."

"No.  It doesn't.  Or so my familiar tells me."

**'He said that it shouldn't hurt,'** Harry said softly.

**'Good,'** the snake replied.  **'If it did, I was going to bite you.'**

Harry smiled faintly.  **'Why doesn't that surprise me?'**

"Come," Newt said.  "This won't take long."

Harry sat down again and placed the snake on the desk.  Newt walked over to them and placed a hand on the top of Harry's head.  He placed his other hand on the snake's body; he was a little wary about doing it, but his hesitation was barely noticeable.  He closed his eyes.

Newt spoke no words, but Harry felt himself being pulled.  He started to resist and then calmed himself.  He should have asked if that was part of the bonding.  Wary, he allowed himself to be pulled.  He felt something brush up against him and nearly recoiled before he realized what it was.  It was the snake.  His familiar.  Harry barely noticed the merge, he was so caught up in the amazing feeling of being with someone so completely.  He did, however, feel himself begin to settle.  He opened his eyes, wondering when it was he closed them.  

He found Newt watching him with a weary smile.  "Congratulations.  It was successful."

Harry smiled slightly.  "I know.  I can feel her."  He turned to the snake who was staring at him intently.

**'I can feel you,'** she said softly.  **'I can feel your emotions.  You're happy we bonded.  I am too.'**

**'I am happy we bonded,'** Harry confirmed.

"I'm going to leave you two to get use to your bond.  We won't try any magic for a few more days to let it settle," Newt said.

"Thank you, Newt."

"You're welcome, Harry," the wizard replied and left the room.

**'I've chosen my name,'** the snake said suddenly.

**'What have you decided?'** Harry asked curiously.

**'Yui.'**

**'That's a Japanese name… How did you learn Japanese?'**

The snake hesitated.  **'I think I know it, because you know it.'**  Yui raised her head to meet Harry's eyes.  **'Just how many languages do you know?'**

Harry gave a low whistle.  **'A lot: Greek, Latin, Gaelic, Modern English, a little Middle English, Japanese, a lot of Elvish, and Parseltongue.'**

**'Who taught you?'**

'I was given the ability to speak Parseltongue when I was a baby.  I learned Modern English as I grew up.  When I was in school, I had to learn a little Middle English for a literature class.  I learned a little Latin before I went to Hogwarts and finished learning it while I was there.  Quentin, my sire, taught me Greek and Gaelic.  Lorna, my mentor, taught me Japanese.  Skya and Illiona are teaching me Elvish.'

**'Planning on learning anymore?'**

Harry smiled.  **'Probably.'**

**'Like what?'**

**'Egyptian, German, Russian, Italian, French, and Chinese.'**  Harry grinned.  **'I'm going to have to wait awhile on some of them though.  The Egyptian and French I can learn immediately.  The others I want to wait for a few thousand years before I learn them, as well as the modern versions of the languages I already know.'**

**'You plan on living forever or something?'**

Harry smiled.  **'Nah, just plan on traveling through time.'**

**'Just traveling through time,' **Yui mocked**.  'If I didn't know better I'd say you were nuts.  What am I saying, of course you're nuts, you're a bloody vampire.  All vampires are crazy.'**

Harry laughed.

***

A few days later, after his lesson with Newt, Harry sought out Skya.  "Hello, Harry.  Finished with your lesson?"

"Yes, but that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"You want to know what is happening in the coven."

"Yes.  No one will tell me anything."

"They don't want to upset you."

"It's more upsetting to have no idea what is going on.  My imagination is very vivid."

Skya sighed.  "Michael is determined to raise the ranks of the vampires.  He's forced those in the Daylight Years to bond and is pressuring the older ones in the transition to bond early.  He's also ordered everyone to turn anyone with the potential to be a vampire."  Skya paused.  "He's also killing anyone who disagrees with him.  Your friend Lara was one of those killed."

Harry nodded slowly.  "What about Jason and Olivia?"

"He's been baiting them.  He wants them to do something he can use against them.  Since he can't have you, he wants to kill your friends.  Lara was killed because she said that Michael was jealous and afraid of you."

"She should have kept her mouth shut," Harry said bitterly.

"The other vampires are not ready to move against him yet.  They feel that he's just settling into his position and trying to prove he can be just as good as Quentin: one of the best Rector Lamias in recent memory."

"How long until they realize that he really is an asshole?"

Skya blinked.  "I don't know.  I estimate they will give him at least a dozen years if not more; probably twenty or so, to see if he'll begin to lead them properly."

"How many vampires have been born?"

"There has been thirty-six vampire-borns and sixteen turned-vampires added to the coven."

"What is he trying to do?  Rebuild the coven in one night?"

"That wouldn't surprise me," Skya replied dryly.

"What about the werewolves?"

"Their losses were greater than yours.  By the time they manage to gather enough forces to attack the vampires again, there should be enough to counter them.  They put a lot into that battle.  They were hoping that with the element of surprise and such numbers that they would overwhelm the vampires.  Your warning combined with more Daylight Vampires than they had estimated and the level of skill of some of the fighters is what cost them their victory.  Also, your use of magic to prevent the younger ones from surfacing was unexpected.  They had purposely sought out Quentin to kill him.  It took them a long time but they did manage it.  Most of the losses to the vampires occurred during the ten minutes there was no Rector Lamia."

Harry nodded slowly.  "Thank you, Skya."

"You're welcome, Harry."

***

There was something that Harry really enjoyed about using Yui to do his magic.  He really liked that it only needed a thought to bring the magic to life.  Words were not required, unlike using a wand, which required words and a lot more effort to produce magic.  

Familiar magic was inherently good.  It was impossible to cast anything that could even remotely be used to harm.  He could apparate, cast defensive spells and miscellaneous spells like cleaning spells and the like, but he couldn't cast any curses or hexes… so no leg-locker curse through familiar magic.  If he wanted to use his magic like that, he'd have to take out his wand.

Yui said that it tickled when he cast spells.  Harry had been worried that it was bothering her, but she assured him that it wasn't a problem.  It felt good.  Harry had wondered afterwards if it really tickled or of it did something else.  After all, Yui always looked really relaxed after he cast a few spells.

A few weeks after Newt's arrival, Harry got another unique experience.  He slept with an elf.  Said elf was also his first male partner.  Afterwards, Harry realized that he definitely leaned more towards his own sex than he did towards the opposite.  And as much as he enjoyed sleeping with the elf, he preferred vampires.  He'd never been with a human before, so the jury was still out on the final verdict.

***

{20 years later}

"Harry?  Are you all right?"

Harry pressed a hand to his stomach.  He looked up and frowned at Newt.  "I'm hungry, but I just fed yesterday."

Illiona looked at him sharply.  "Could Michael have died?"

Harry stared at her with dawning comprehension.  "But if Michael is dead, why am I not incapacitated like last time?"

"Well, you're what?  Seventy-five years in the transition?" Skya asked.  "Isn't that when your will strengthens?  When you are able to contain your own bloodlust?"

"No," Illiona said shaking her head.  "Ninety is when the will is strong enough to control the bloodlust."

"Well then how do you explain young Harry over here?" Skya asked.

"Well, Harry is an extremely powerful individual," Newt said.  "It's possible that his will has developed early."

"Harry is here," Harry said sourly.

Illiona giggled.  "Sorry, Harry."

They all heard Harry's stomach growl.  "I really am hungry," he said.

They looked at him warily.  "Should we leave?" Newt asked cautiously.

"I don't know."  Harry frowned.  "I know that I'm hungry, but I don't feel the need to go search for prey."

Illiona frowned.  "That sounds exactly like how the loss of the Rector Lamia effects someone who is in control of himself."

"So Harry's will has strengthened enough to control the bloodlust already?" Newt prompted.  "I thought you just said that was impossible."

"Maybe it is," Illiona replied.

"I'm still here," Harry added helpfully.  "And not only am I here but my hearing is intact.  You can speak to me directly."

Skya snickered and Illiona and Newt looked abashed.  "Sorry, Harry."

"We need to confirm the loss of the Rector," Illiona said.  "I'll go."

"Alright," the others agreed.

***

Two days later, Harry found himself approaching the coven.  Michael Donavan was dead.  In his place, Eric McGonagall had become the Rector Lamia.  Harry entered the tunnel and walked down to the common area of the coven.  Once more, his entrance brought silence.  Then the shouts began.

"Harry's back!"

"Harry's come back!"

"He's back!"

"I told you he'd come!"

Harry was beset with overjoyed transition vampires.  They were the ones he had taught, the ones he had played games with.  He was hugged and kissed and hugged again.

"I'm so glad you're back!"

"We're all glad, Harry!"

"We missed you!"

When he finally managed to extract himself from his admirers, he saw Jason and Olivia.  The three ran to each other and embraced.  They were laughing and wrestling, just enjoying being together after such a lengthy separation.

"Ahem."

The three laughing vampires looked up to see Eric McGonagall and Alcoyne Malfoy looking down at them.  They stood up and composed themselves.  Eric extended his hand, and Harry grasped the Rector's forearm.  Eric's grip was equally strong.  

"Glad to have you back, Harry."

The cheering really began to get out of control.  While Harry didn't know every vampire intimately, he did know the majority of them, and had taught a great deal of them.  He was very well liked and respected.  His leaving the coven had been upsetting to the younger vampires, who in turn blamed it on Michael Donavan.  They kept silent about their anger however, which was the only reason why they survived Michael's rule.  The vampires who were about mid-transition and up, were also upset about Harry's absence.  The idea of allowing a vampire still in the transition to leave the coven unprotected was shocking.  They, however, knew exactly why Harry had left.  Michael's vindictiveness towards Harry had surprised them all.  Harry would have been in more danger if he stayed.

Harry settled back into coven life easily.  He continued to teach the younger children and hone his skills.  Once a month, he went to Raveya to have a lesson with Newt.  Yui was a constant source of fascination for the younger vampires.  Harry had to have six talks with her before she quit biting everyone.

***

{25 years later}

"Today is the day."

"I know."

"Nervous?"

"Yes."

"It doesn't hurt."

Harry looked up at Jason.  "So says you, the man who ran off and hid in his room for his transition."

Jason grinned.  "Yep.  That was me."

Harry gave Jason a shaky smile.  The smile slowly faded.  Jason's smile faded too.  The transition was finished.  Harry was changing.

Harry let out a gasp as he felt his muscles clench involuntarily.  He collapsed to the floor.  He let out a low moan as a fire burst in his gut.  He could hear Jason talking to him, but couldn't understand him through the pain.  The darkness was a relief.

***

Harry woke slowly and was instantly aware of how sore his body was.  

"Harry?  Oh thank the Goddess!"

Harry's eyes focused in on Olivia.  "What happened?"

"When your transition ended, you collapsed to the floor, moaning in pain.  No one knows why the final transition hurt you.  They've sent for Illiona and Eric's brother, who's a wizard."

"Newt.  He's my teacher."

"Do you have any idea what happened?" she asked.

"No.  Am I a Daylight Vampire or am I still in transition?"

"You are a Daylight Vampire."

"That's something at least."

"Harry!  You're awake!  Are you all right?" 

"Jason.  I'm okay I suppose.  I'm very sore.  I feel like I've been in a fight with a werewolf and lost."

Jason smiled weakly.  "Well, if you can crack jokes, I guess you're better."

"Why doesn't it surprise me to know that you can't even get through a simple transition without causing a scene?"

Harry smiled at Illiona and Newt.  "I don't suppose you know what happened?"

"You mean other than you collapsing to the floor in agony?" Newt asked.  "Nope.  Or not yet anyway.  We need to examine you."

"Jason, Olivia, if you two could leave the room for a moment?" Illiona said gently.  Olivia and Jason left reluctantly.

The elf and the wizard examined Harry's magic thoroughly.  They also examined him, wondering if there were any physical manifestations of Harry's painful transition.  "Well," Newt said sitting down.  "There's no doubt about it.  Your magic is what caused the transition to be painful.  The change was more complex in you than it is in your average vampire.  Since there was more to change, significantly too I might add, there was pain during it.  Your body wanted the change, needed it, but your magic wasn't ready for it."

"Is my magic harmed?"

"Not harmed, but definitely changed," Illiona replied.  "I thought we had seen the peak of your power when you reached your ninetieth year.  Your magic has increased again."

"Great.  What does that mean now?"

"Honestly, we don't know.  We just don't know enough about your magic to even guess at what it is capable of now."

Harry sighed.  "How obvious is it?"

"What do you mean?" Newt asked.

"When I go home, how obvious is it going to be that I've changed?"

"They are going to know something has happened, but unless they know how to examine your magic, and are familiar with how it was before, and knew what to look for, they won't know _what_ happened," Illiona replied.

"I hope you're right," Harry said softly.

**'Harry?'**

**'Yui,'** Harry said in relief**.  'Are you all right?  Did my transition hurt you?'**

**'No.  But I was worried about you.  They made me leave earlier.  I didn't want to.  I bit the Rector Lamia.'**

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock.  **'Yui!'**

**'I'm sorry!'**

Illiona started laughing.  "Judging by your expression, I'm guessing she told you that she bit Eric."

"Yes, and it's not funny," he replied glaring at the laughing Illiona and the ginning Newt.

"Eric said he didn't mind.  He said he knew that she was just worried about you."

"Still, she shouldn't have done that," Harry said and glared at Yui.  Yui coiled tightly and rested her head on the top coil.  Harry's expression softened.  **'Yui, come here.'**  Yui uncoiled and slithered up to rest on his chest.  She let out a soft hiss, as she got comfortable.

"So what are you going to do now?" Newt prompted.

"Well, I'm going to lay here until I've recovered… and then I'm going to leave the coven.  There are things I want to see, do and learn."

"Are you going to come back?" Illiona asked.

"More than likely."

"Then we will wait for your return," she said.

"I have to leave," Newt said.  "I pose too much of a temptation to the younger vampires."

"Until we meet again, Master."

"Until we meet again, Apprentice."

"I must go too.  Until we meet again, vampire prince."

"Until we meet again, elven princess."

Illiona and Newt smiled at him as they left.  "Get some rest," Illiona called over her shoulder.

"Yes, Mother!" he called after her.  He could hear her laughter as it echoed down the hall.

***

Harry sat on the beach in the warm sun.  He was close enough to the water that it brushed his toes when the tide came in.  Beside him, Yui was coiled catching some rays.  He smiled down at her as she snoozed.

They were currently in what would one day be called Italy.  In a few hundred years, the Roman Empire would stretch all the way to England.  Harry wondered what the Romans would think of the birthplace of magic.  England held the only known vampires, the only known werewolves, and the majority of the world's elves.  Most magical folk were there too.  England also had the larger share of dragons and other magical beasts.

He had spoken with so many people and learned so many things.  He wrote everything down, wanting to remember everything.  He had left all of his journals at the coven under locking spells, save the one he had currently been writing in.  His travels had made his entries longer, and so he was now working on filling his third journal since his journey began.

It had been two years since he left, and he missed his friends, but he wasn't ready to go back yet.  There were still things to do.

***

{1 year later}

Harry was walking past a rice field when a sudden hunger hit him.  He slowed to a stop.  His stomach growled loudly.

**'Harry?'**

**'Eric McGonagall is dead.'**

**'Are you alright?'**

**'Yes, but we should return to the coven.'**

**'Do you want to travel back or apparate?'**

**'Apparate.  We'll take it in stages so we don't burn out.'**

**'Okay.'**

Harry disapparated and apparated to an out of the way area in India.  They rested for a few minutes before they began the next jump.  **'It's been ten minutes.  The hunger should have stopped by now.  Why hasn't anyone assumed control?'**

**'Could it be a battle?'**

**'With who?  The werewolves are still recovering, the elves are our friends, the wizards can't do harm, and the humans don't know where we are.'**

**'An uprising?'**

**'There weren't any problems when we left.  Everyone was happy with Eric.'**

The two fell silent.  **'We can go again,'** Yui prompted.

**'I know.'**  Harry was quiet a moment.  **'Let's go.'  **

Their next location was an area outside of Rome.  **'The hunger is fading,'** Harry said quietly.  **'But it's not going away.  If someone has taken control, they have no idea how to control the bloodlust.  They aren't strong enough.'**

Their next location was about a hundred miles north of Thebes; then it was twenty miles west of Sparta; then six miles south of Paris.  The last jump was the one home.

***

It was night at the coven, and in that respect they were very lucky.  The vampires were out of control.  What little influence being exerted on the bloodlust wasn't enough to help the youngest among them.  The older vampires were trying to keep the young ones inside the coven, but some were slipping out.  Harry grabbed a small four-year old as he ran pass.  He held the wiggling child in a firm grip and made his way towards one of the more aware adults.

"What's going on?" he shouted.

"Harry!"

"Ormond?"

"Everything's gone crazy!"

"What happened?"  
  


"Alcoyne killed Eric!"

"What?  Why?  They were bonded!  They have a child!  What the hell happened?"

"She caught him with another woman and slaughtered the two of them where they lay!"

"My God," Harry breathed.

"She's the new Rector Lamia, but her grief is affecting her control!  She can't contain the bloodlust!  And dawn is in less than an hour!"

"Where is she?"

"She's down in the caves, by the bodies!"

"Take him!" Harry yelled and passed the squirming child to Ormond.

Harry ran down into the caves and began searching for Alcoyne.  It took him a few minutes, but he finally found her by following the sounds of crying.  She sat by the two bodies with her head in her hands.

"Alcoyne?"

She looked up.  "Harry.  You're back."

"Alcoyne, you have to get the bloodlust under control.  Dawn is coming and every vampire is above ground."

"I can't," she whispered.  "I'm not strong enough."

"Yes, you are.  Focus Alcoyne.  I know you can do this."

"I can't!  I didn't want this!  I don't know why I did the ritual!  Just leave me alone!"

"Alcoyne, if you don't control the bloodlust, then everyone still young enough is going to die!"

"I can't do it," she whispered.  "I just can't."

Harry sank to the ground beside her.  "Please, Alcoyne.  I don't want to lose anymore friends."

"Take it from me, Harry."

"What?"

"Be the Rector Lamia.  Let me die, save those above ground.  Please, become the Rector!"

"Alcoyne, I don't want to be the leader," he said shocked.

"Then they're all going to die."

Harry stared at her.  "I'll do it," he sighed softly.  "I'll do it."

Alcoyne took his hands in hers.  "I'm sorry, Harry."

"Not as sorry as I."

She bit down on his palm, and he hissed at the sharp pain.  Alcoyne had never believed in being gentle.  Harry bit her palm as she bit his other palm.  Once he bit her second palm, they meshed their hands together, their blood mingling and dripping to the floor.  Alcoyne leaned forward and bit his neck, tilting her head to the side, leaving her neck exposed to him.  Harry bit her neck, and the blood began to flow between them.  After a few moments, Alcoyne let go of his neck and tightened her grip on his hands.  Harry continued to feed.  

Her grip slackened and she went limp in his arms.  Still he fed.  When she was completely drained, Harry carefully laid her body on the ground.  He looked at his bloody palms and licked them, allowing his saliva to heal the wounds.  Alcoyne's blood burned in his gut.  His skin felt on fire, and he cried out.  He fought to sooth the ache, and slowly the burn began to fade.  He became aware of changes to himself.  He could sense every vampire.  Had the others been able to do that?  He tightened his grip on the burn and it faded completely.  He stood and stumbled from the room.  Had he been able to save the children?

He could hear the pounding of feet as he ran towards the common area.  Coming down the tunnel were the other vampires.  Harry breathed a sigh of relief.  Some were injured and limping along, others were being carried by the older vampires, but they were all coming down into the cave.  Their bloodlust was under control.

"Harry!" he heard a familiar voice shout.  

"Jason!"

"What happened?"  Jason ran towards him, but he paused a few feet away.  "By the Goddess.  You're the Rector Lamia."

***

TBC…

….soooo…. *evil laugh*…..cliffhanger!  

okay, so we now have Harry into his Daylight Years, just as I promised.  However, Harry now has a very serious problem.  How can he go home, if he's the Rector Lamia?  Ahhhh!  What's he going to do?

Next chapter, we'll see the reactions of the other vampires to the new Rector and find out that Harry's ascension has caused some changes in all the vampires and their abilities.  We also find out some of the responsibilities of the Rector Lamia.  It's not all about the bloodlust, ya know!

About the ritual: drinking the blood of the Rector Lamia is how the responsibilities are passed on.  Since Alcoyne was still alive, their ritual was a little more complicated than the way Michael Donavan took over from Quentin Smith, or Eric from Michael, or Alcoyne from Eric.  I'll use Michael and Quentin for the example: Michael just drained the remaining blood from Quentin's dead body.  It was just that simple.  There wasn't any biting of the palms or sharing the blood like there was in Harry's and Alcoyne's.  The ritual that Harry and Alcoyne did shows the new Rector's respect for the old one.

I'm not sure where this event is going to fall so it might be in the next chapter or it might be in chapter four, but anyway, we're going to meet a new race of people eventually.  Chocolate Frogs to anyone who guesses correctly.

As always, please feel free to ask me questions.  If you're having trouble understanding something, then please let me know.  Unfortunately, questions are more likely to be answered if you ask them at my group than if you ask me in an e-mail.  I have the very bad habit of forgetting to respond back to e-mails.  If you are one of those people who sent me an e-mail and didn't get a response back, I'm sooooo sorry.  If you did get a response back… you lucky dogs!

Just in case you haven't figured it out yet, this is the address of my group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/HuntressSmiles

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or sent me an e-mail.  All encouragement is appreciated.  

~Artemis Luna Diana~


	4. Chapter Three: Tears of Blood

**Title:** Blood

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadiana@yahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.  

**Summary:  **Thrust into the distant past and turned into a vampire against his will, Harry struggles to understand what he has become and tries to fill his one desire: to get home.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to:** snapeysnapesnape for the excellent beta.

My beta and I both agree, this chapter is very angsty and sad for Harry.  A tissue might be required.  I repeat!  Tissue Warning!

Chapter Three: Tears of Blood

last time… 

_"Harry!" he heard a familiar voice shout.  _

_"Jason!"_

_"What happened?"  Jason ran towards him, but he paused a few feet away.  "By the Goddess.  You're the Rector Lamia."_

***

Harry, Donny, and Jason – who wouldn't let Harry out of his sight – stared down at the three bodies in the chamber.  Harry had laid Alcoyne down on her back with her hands upon her chest.  Eric and the woman – whom Harry vaguely recognized as someone who had only recently entered the transition – still lay in a bloody mess where they had fallen.

"You performed the ritual together," Donny said after inspecting Alcoyne's body.  He looked at Harry's neck.  "And you haven't sealed her bite yet," he admonished.

Harry lifted a hand to his neck in surprise, pulling away bloody fingers from the wound.  He quickly sucked the blood from his fingers and swiped the saliva-coated tips across the wound.  It sealed instantly.

"I knew you would eventually become the Rector Lamia, Harry, but I never thought it would be so soon.  You haven't even fought in battle yet," Donny said concerned.  "Thankfully, you have the respect of almost everyone in the coven.  Your willingness to teach the young ones has paid off.  I don't suspect that anyone will demand you hand over your position to someone else."

The three were silent a moment.  "Damn," Jason swore softly.

Harry glanced over at him.

"Sorry.  It's just such a big shock.  I kind of figured you'd become the Rector Lamia, too, but like Donny said.  Not this soon."

"Well it's not like I wanted it to happen this way," Harry snapped.  "Matter of fact, I didn't want it at all!"

There was a moment of awkward silence before Donny spoke again.  "We need to take the bodies above to be burned."

"No, wait!"  Harry said, stopping Donny from leaving the room.  "I don't want Eric or Alcoyne's bodies burned."

"Why not?" Donny asked shocked.

"I want them buried.  I didn't like the idea of Quentin being burned either, but I had no say.  I have a say in this.  I don't want them burned.  Take the girl, but leave them here for now."

"What are you going to do?" Jason asked.

"I'm going to go down to the lowest level and add on a bit," Harry replied.

"Add on?" Donny asked.  "How?  It takes months to create a new cave."

"Don't move them.  I should be done soon," he said and left the room.

"What is he going to do?" Donny demanded.

"Why are you asking me?" Jason snapped.  "How am I supposed to know?"

"You are his friend aren't you?"

"That doesn't mean I know what he's doing!"

Donny growled and stalked from the room.

Jason sighed.  "What in the Goddess's name is he planning on doing?" he muttered.  "Honestly.  Burying bodies."

***

The coven was divided into two parts: one above ground and one below.  Due to the nature of vampires, the largest area was the one below ground.  The smaller, upper area contained a few dwellings for those of Daylight Years, the above ground home of the Rector Lamia, the clearing – where most celebrations were held – and a few recreational areas.  

Below ground was the large common area where all meetings and meals – for those in the birthing – took place.  Beneath the common area were the training chambers.  There was also one classroom on this level that Harry and Quentin had set up while the latter had still been alive.  Beneath that level were some of the recreational areas, the healing areas, and the religious centers.  Below them were the beginning of the dwelling levels.  There were twenty levels set aside for living space.  Some were large for those with mates and children, others were smaller for those with students – turned vampires – and the smallest rooms were for those who were on their own in the transition.  Beneath the living levels were the last of the recreational areas, the underground lake, and the underground home of the Rector Lamia.

Harry quickly descended down to the cavern containing the lake.  He stopped at the water's edge.  He frowned.  He was worried that if he pulled the rocks from beneath the lake up to form an island, that it would cause damage to the structure of the entire coven.  Which left him one option: conjuring, turning the magic around him into something solid and permanent.  

He walked into the lake, stopping when the water reached his waist.  The water was freezing, already numbing his toes.  He closed his eyes to concentrate better.  He could feel the magic pulsing around him.  For whatever reason, it was easier to do familiar magic the closer you were to the Earth's core.  The deeper underground you were, the more powerful the spells you could do.  Wand magic was just the opposite.  The higher up the spell caster, the stronger the spell.

He painted the image of the cavern into his mind, taking the time to make sure that the image was the best he could do.  He could feel pinpricks in his legs, but did not hurry the process.  Keeping that image firmly in mind, he began a new picture: how the cavern would look after the magic was done.  He made sure to deepen the lake, so the water being displaced by the island wouldn't flood the coven.  Once the image was firmly in his mind, he began to merge them together.  He could feel the magic pushing against him, fighting the change.  

He couldn't say how long he stood there molding the magic into his image, but when he next opened his eyes, the cavern was just how he'd imagined it.  He looked down at himself, unable to feel his body.  The water was up to his chest.  He'd misjudged the depth.  His body was shivering, and when he turned to swim back to the shore, his muscles burned.

When he emerged from the water, he cast a drying charm on himself as well as a few warming charms.  He turned and looked back at the island.  There were no structures on it, just a gentle almost sloping surface rising above the water.  It was at least a hundred feet across and about twice as long.  It was low enough to appear to be floating on the water, yet high enough so that it didn't look as though it was sinking.

The warming charms were doing wonders for him, and he readied himself to continue.  He had to make the path to the island as well as the structures and the dirt and grass.  Carefully taking in the image of the cavern as it was, he added into his head the crystal path across the water.  The path was flat and looked like ice, but was not slick or wet.  It did not stretch down into the water, but floated on top of it, connecting at the shore of the island and the shore of the cavern to keep it in place.  He opened his eyes.  He studied the newly created path before giving an unconscious nod of approval.  He cast strengthening charms on the path to prevent it from breaking or moving.

Once he was done he walked onto the path.  He stopped a few feet away from the island's edge.  He conjured dirt, grass, trees, and moss, then spelled them to not require sunlight to survive.  Next he conjured tall torches to bring light to the island, as well as columns and arches and paths to bring beauty to the final resting place of the vampire leaders.  He brought no flowers, no superficial items of beauty.  The island did not need it.  

He walked towards the far end of the island and conjured two stone coffins that rested side by side above ground.  He did not create the lids; he wanted to wait for the bodies to be placed inside first.  He looked around.  He could add more later if he desired, but this would do for now.  He turned and walked towards the crystal path.  He would add something for Quentin later, when he had more strength, and was better suited to the task.

***

Harry walked back up to the upper living levels where the home of the woman had been.  He walked in and found two healers working on the bodies of the two former Rector Lamias.  It was custom to ready the bodies for the battles in the afterlife, and as such, the bodies must be healed of all injuries.  They were then dressed in their battle armor and robes, and laid with their weapons upon a pyre.  They would lay upon the pyre for one day and one night, with elven spells cast to prevent decay, as the vampires paid their respects to their fallen leaders.  After that day and night had passed, the bodies would be burned.  Elven spells insured that the weapons were burned as well.

This time instead of lying on a pyre, they would be placed in the stone coffins.  After the day and night had passed, the lids would be created and sealed over to prevent anything or anyone from getting to the bodies.  The two healers looked at their new Rector with expressions of curiosity on their faces.  Not only because of his young age, but because he was breaking with custom.  

If Harry had tried this only three hundred years before, he would have met with much resistance.  The vampires had believed that the soul must be set free from the body's shell, hence the burning.  However, the soul must be prepared to face the battles of the afterlife so the armor and the weapons must be burned.  The vampires believed that after so many years of being with someone that a weapon becomes a part of that person.  The souls of the weapons and armor must be freed from their physical shells as well. 

Now, with the passage of time, that system of belief had somewhat fallen apart, as the vampires whom had left the coven returned with tales of other cultures.  Coming as he did from the future, Harry's system of belief followed one of burying the leaders of a people in state, not burning them.  Also, during the hundred some odd years that Harry had been in the past, he had influenced those around him with hints of his own beliefs and customs, though he'd never come out and said what his people believed or where he was from.

The coven had become very open about religion, though most vampires chose to follow either the Norse way of thinking or the Earth Goddess – the original beliefs of the vampires.  There was a small following for the Greek gods, and a small group that followed the Warrior's Way.  Those two were the second largest religions.  There were even a few Jews.  

Harry waited patiently until the healers were done, then levitated the bodies and took them down to their final resting place.  Once the bodies were secure in their stone coffins – minus the lids of course – Harry left to find Donny.  It was odd, and Harry wondered if all the Rector Lamias had been able to do it.  He instinctively knew exactly where the oldest vampire was.  There was no searching involved.  He wondered who he could ask about this.

Harry told Donny to announce that the bodies were ready for viewing in the lake cavern.  Donny gave him a curious, slightly confused look, and then did what he was told.  Harry retreated to his new underground home; he had much to think about.

***

The underground home of the Rector Lamia consisted of three rooms: a bedroom, a receiving room, and what passed for an office in this time period.  The receiving room was like a waiting room for those who wished to speak to the Rector.  It also served as a meeting room.  The Rector could discuss issues with the religious leaders of the coven there for example.  The office area is where Quentin had kept records of things he'd done in his capacity as Rector Lamia.  Stepping into the room, Harry got the impression that Eric hadn't used it much.  The bedroom contained a simple wooden bed and a bureau that reached about waist-height and was about four feet long.  

Yui hadn't said anything since they had returned to the coven; she had remained coiled about his arm as was her preference while he had done his tasks.  Now he set her upon the bureau and turned to study the bed.

**'Are you alright?'** she asked quietly.

**'Yes,'** he replied after a moment.  Making up his mind quickly, he decided to clean out the rooms and change things to his liking.  He stripped the bed of its coarse sheets and blankets, carried them out to the receiving room, and dumped them on the floor.  He transfigured the bed itself into one a little more stable made of cherry wood, though it remained simple looking.  He transfigured the straw mattress to a more modern one, then conjured some cotton sheets and a comforter – all a dark, navy blue.  He conjured four soft, feather pillows – as apparently Eric and Alcoyne hadn't used pillows – then conjured matching pillow cases to cover them.

He emptied the bureau, tossing all the clothes on top of the pile of sheets in the receiving room.  He left his rooms and walked up to his old rooms on the fourteenth level.  He gathered all of the belongings he'd left behind when he'd begun his journey and carted them down to his new home.  He put all of his clothes away, and set his few keepsakes on top of the bureau beside Yui: a throwing knife from Lorna, two scrolls of Greek writings from Quentin, a dream ball from Newt, and a vial of the Waters of Raveya from Illiona and Skya.

Harry touched the tiny dream ball and a slight smile crossed his face.  He believed this was the beginning of the pensive; a ball full of liquid that was used to store dreams.  You place the ball underneath your pillow or place it on a chain around your neck before you fall asleep and the ball records your dreams.  The dreams can be viewed with a simple thought.  Harry figured that once wands were invented, the dream ball would become obsolete.  He frowned, wondering when the switch from familiar to wand was going to take place.

He picked up Yui and placed her on the bed.  It would be easier for her to get down from the bed than it was to get down from the bureau – besides the bed was more comfortable anyway.  

Next, he emptied out his pockets and resized his belongings.  He leaned his staff against the bureau, and walked into the office.  He had placed his journals in six stacks on the floor while he finished with the bedroom.  When he walked in, he added the journals from his travels to one of the stacks and began going through the scrolls and bound parchments that Quentin had left.  He sorted through them, placing the more personal writings aside to be stored elsewhere.  

He conjured several ceiling-tall bookcases and placed charms on them to prevent decay and destruction.  Then he sorted through his own writings, placing his journals apart from his studies.  He created a safe of sorts and stored Quentin's personal writings inside, with charms to preserve them, then sealed it.  He transfigured one of the tables into a desk and placed it up against one of the walls.  He put his writing materials away.  He enlarged the remaining table and placed it in the center of the room.  He transfigured the three chairs to more comfortable and sturdy ones – pushing two up to the center table and the other to his desk.

Just as he finished, he sensed someone walk into the room.  He turned and a slight smile crossed his face.  "Hello, Illiona."

"Hello, Harry."

"I guess someone told you what happened."

"Yes."

Harry sighed and sat down at the table.  He gestured toward the other seat and Illiona sat down.  He rubbed his hands over his face then stared at the elf.  "I'm so unprepared for this."

Illiona smiled slightly.  "I'm sure that all the Rector Lamias before you have felt the same way."

"I don't know how to lead them."

"You already lead them.  You have always been an important figure to every vampire in the coven.  They all knew that eventually you would lead them.  You are their teacher, their guide.  You have already done this.  Becoming the Rector Lamia just makes it official."

"Teaching the younger ones is not the only duty of the Rector Lamia," Harry replied.  "I have never been in a battle, yet I will be required to lead them when it becomes necessary.  I also have the task of making sure that we don't end up at war with anyone.  The werewolves are a lost cause, and I don't want anyone else to feel the same way they do."

Illiona shook her head.  "No one could.  The hatred between werewolves and vampires is legendary."

Harry gave an amused smile.  "I know.  You know the legend, right?"

Illiona smiled slightly.  "Something about a human princess.  The Rector Lamia and one of the Council were fighting over her?"

Harry grinned.  "Quentin told me the tale.  He said that most vampires and werewolves don't like to think about why we are fighting because it's so embarrassing.  And they should be embarrassed, we are basically fighting over a woman that died over six hundred years ago.  She didn't even choose either one of them.  She chose a wizard."  Harry sighed.  "I wish that I could stop the war, but after over six hundred years of fighting, too much blood has been shed." 

"That is unfortunately true," Illiona agreed.

"You know, at home, I have a friend that is a werewolf."

"Oh?" Illiona prompted.  Harry didn't usually talk about his home.

"Yes.  He had been one of my father's best friends as well as one of my teachers."  He was silent a moment.  "I wonder how he would react if he knew I was a vampire."  Harry focused on the elvish princess.  "To his senses, I would smell almost exactly the same.  I would look the same.  In every way that matters, I would appear to be exactly as I did before, but something would seem off about me.  It might take him ages to figure it out, but eventually he would understand what that feeling meant.  That sense that warned of danger."  Harry studied his hands.  "How would I react to him?  Someone who looks like a friend, but smells like a werewolf.  I've been trained to kill on sight.  If I smell the blood of a werewolf, I attack.  I've probably killed a dozen or so."

Illiona remained quiet.

"But what is the point in thinking about it?  I can't go home.  My responsibilities weigh me down.  If I leave, the vampires will die.  The power now within me would be lost and nothing could save them.  Eventually they would all die."

"Harry…"

"No."  Harry held up a hand, stopping her words.  "I have things I must do."  He gave a slight smile.  "Of course, I have to figure out what they are first."

Illiona gave him a sad smile.  "Of course."

***

Illiona watched him, giving occasional comments, as he arranged the receiving room to his liking.  He added chairs, made the existing ones more comfortable.  He conjured a coffee table and two sofas.  For kicks, he added a chaise lounge – one of his favorite pieces of furniture.  The room was decorated in dark reds and soft beige colors.  The wood used was a soft, light brown. 

He had just finished when he received more guests: Donny McGregor – the oldest vampire, Rachael – Head Priestess of one of the religions dominate in the coven, Mikhail – Chief Healer of the coven, Viktor Dombrowski – Head Priest of the second dominate religion in the coven, and Elsa – Eric's second.  These vampires were his staff of sorts, minus Elsa.  She would be replaced by someone of his choosing.

Illiona stood.  "I can see you have things to do, Rector.  I shall return when you are finished."  She gave a slight bow and left.

Harry watched his guests, slightly apprehensive.

"Hello, Rector Lamia Harry.  I knew this day would come," Rachael said softly.

"Hello, Priestess."

"We've come to tell you what has happened since you left as well as what is to be expected of you as the Rector Lamia," Donny said.

"Alright, please sit."  Harry curled up at the end of the chaise lounge, and his guests chose various seats around him.  

"I'll begin," Elsa spoke after a moment.  "Not long after you left, Eric and Alcoyne began having problems.  It stemmed from the loss of their daughter, Alexia, to a werewolf."

Harry's eyes closed on a sigh.  "What happened?" he asked opening his eyes.

"Alexia was on a hunt.  They were on their way back to the coven when they were attacked.  Alcoyne was in charge of the group," Elsa paused for a moment, trying to sort out her thoughts.  "She blamed herself for not protecting Alexia, and Eric blamed her too.  I don't know when Eric took up with that child, but once his affair had become known… no one wanted to tell Alcoyne.  Eric had been sleeping with her for at least a year when Alcoyne found them last night."

"Alcoyne spent much of her time in her room above ground.  She only came down when she needed to feed," Donny added.  "Who knows why she came down last night."

"No one was happy with what was happening, but no one knew what to do about it either," Viktor said quietly.  "I don't think that anyone is really surprised by the result."

"Eric had it coming," Mikhail said, daring anyone to disagree.

"Thank you for telling me," Harry said before an argument could break out.  "That just leaves my new responsibilities."

"You will need to go over the hunting schedules, the werewolf watches, and the list of vampires to see who has been added since you've been gone," Elsa informed him.

"You'll also need to choose your second and your mate," Donny continued.

Harry's head snapped to Donny.  "My what?"

"Your second and your mate," Donny repeated, slightly confused at Harry's surprise.

"I've already chosen my second," Harry dismissed that with a wave of his hand.  "My mate?"

"Yes.  You must take a mate and produce an heir," Rachael replied.  "You didn't realize this?  Alcoyne and Eric mated immediately after Eric became the Rector Lamia.  Michael took a mate after he became the Rector Lamia.  Quentin was already mated when he became the Rector Lamia."

"To be honest, I didn't think anything of it," Harry snapped.  "Why the hell do I need to be mated?  The position of Rector Lamia isn't passed down through any one line."

"But the position of prince or princess is an important one, as you well know," Viktor answered.  "With the death of Eric and Alcoyne's child, then Alcoyne becoming the Rector and her death, we only have Michael's child, Charles, and you.  Only you are now the Rector Lamia.  It is the duty of the Rector Lamia to take a mate and produce an heir: creating two princesses or princes.  If the Rector's mate and heir are lost, he must turn a human to create a new prince or princess."

"How could you not realize this?" Mikhail asked.  "You had to have realized that being a Vampire Prince wasn't just a title.  Didn't Quentin tell you anything?"

"No!  He told me nothing of this!" Harry replied angrily.  "If I had some task I was supposed to be performing, I sure as hell haven't been doing it!"

"But you have been," Donny replied shocked.  "A prince or princess is supposed to take charge of the training of twenty transition vampires.  We thought you really enjoyed teaching and that's why you taught so many."

Harry closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands.

"Most princes and princesses eventually become the Rector Lamia.  Teaching the younger ones lays the groundwork of trust that the vampires must have in their leader," Mikhail explained delicately.

Harry removed his hands and opened his eyes, staring at Mikhail.  "And my opinion doesn't matter.  The fact that I won't love whomever I mate, doesn't matter?"

"You could mate with a friend," Elsa pointed out quietly.  "Once the child is produced, you wouldn't have to remain with her as more than a friend.  You could work something out between you."

"Consigning the two of us to a loveless marriage in which we seek out the beds of others," Harry responded coldly.

"Then chose someone you don't know so well," Donny replied exasperated.

"If that is all, I'd like to be left alone," Harry said.

The other vampires stood.  "I'll send you the list of injured and sick," Mikhail said and left the room.  Viktor and Rachael followed suit, promising their own lists as they left.

"I truly am sorry, Rector," Elsa said quietly and left.

"Before I leave, I must ask who you have chosen for your second," Donny said hesitantly.  He had no wish to anger Harry.  He might be young, but there was a reason why everyone believed he would be the Rector Lamia.  

"Jason."

"Of course.  Thank you," Donny said and left.

Harry stared down at his hands.  How had things gotten so out of hand?  All he had ever wanted was to go home.  Now not only was he stuck here as the Rector Lamia, he must now take a mate and produce an heir.  A mate he wouldn't even love.  Sure he could end up falling in love with her after awhile, but it wasn't very likely.  Not when he would be keeping so much of himself from her.  Her.  That was the other thing.  To produce a child, he'd need to mate a woman.  His preference was his own gender though he found both sexes attractive.

"Harry."

Harry looked up.  "Illiona.  Did you know?" he demanded.

"Know what?" she asked sitting down across from him.

"That I had to take a mate?" 

"Yes.  Didn't you?" she asked puzzled.

"No!  I didn't know!  How could they expect me to know when I was never told!"  Harry seemed to deflate after his short tirade.

"Who will you choose?" Illiona asked after a moment.

"I don't know.  I honestly don't know."

"Are you going to choose a female or a male?" she asked curiously.

Harry glanced up at her.  "What?"

"Your mate.  Male or female?"

"I could mate with a male and produce a child?"

"Yes."  She laughed softly.  "Didn't you pay any attention when Quentin explained the nature of vampires to you?"  She smiled.  "The mating bond combines the blood and powers of the two vampires and uses the surrounding magic to create a child.  The baby is carried within the female or if the parents are the same sex, in the oldest of the two."

"I think I would have remembered that if Quentin had told me," Harry replied in a huff. 

"So who will you choose?"

"I don't know.  I want it to be someone I trust."

"Then chose Jason.  I know you prefer males anyway."

Harry shook his head.  "Can't.  Jason is my second and I'm not attracted to him anyway."

"What about Olivia Waters?  You've been with her before," Illiona pointed out.  "And you are close friends with her.  You do trust her?"

"Yes, I trust Olivia, but…"

"But?" she prompted.

"I'm not in love with her!"

"Harry, as much as it pains me to say this, you are going to have to give up on love.  It is rare that a vampire mates for love.  You should know this."

"I do know that, but…" he paused, looking at Illiona sadly.  "You know my history, Illiona.  I wanted to marry someone I loved, not mate a friend to produce a child."

Illiona stood and walked over to him.  She sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around him.  "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered.

Harry fought back tears.  "My home has been taken from me and now my future has been too."

***

Harry summoned Jason and Olivia.  Illiona watched with a heavy heart as he informed Jason of his position and offered Olivia the position as his mate.  She accepted.

***

The mating bond was fairly simple if somewhat exhausting.  The couple must first have sex, then mingle their blood, have sex again, then bite each other and transfer as much blood as needed until their blood and power combine, taking the mingled blood to form the child.  The parents would know instantly when the child was created as well as what sex it would be.

Harry did his best to be an enthusiastic lover, but his heart was heavy.  He was looking forward to raising his child, but wished that it wasn't under these circumstances.  They slashed their palms and mingled the blood in a stone bowl, then licked each other's hands to seal the wounds.  He was a gentle and thorough lover.  Olivia had no complaints when it came to sex.  She was his friend though, and knew this had not been what he wanted.  They had barely transferred any blood when they both felt themselves merge together for a brief instant.  They pulled away from each other and looked at the stone bowl full of blood.  It was empty.  They heard soft feminine laughter.  Olivia was pregnant with a baby girl.

***

The first hint that there might be a problem came two days later.  Olivia had a burst of random magic that caused havoc in one of the training rooms.  It left her weak and barely conscious.  Harry summoned Newt McGonagall, Illiona, Skya, and Mikhail to examine her.  

Harry waited in his office.  When they finally left Olivia in their bedroom and joined him in the office, it had been almost six hours.  Their news wasn't good.

"Well?" Harry asked when they entered.

"Harry, you might want to sit down," Skya said softly.

Harry went cold and did as his friend suggested.  "Yes?"

"Harry, you are a fully trained wizard," Newt said calmly.  "You use your magic often; you don't even think about using it most times.  Your body has always contained its own magic, it has always created more magic for you to use.  When you became a vampire, your magic altered slightly, then grew more powerful as you aged.  I haven't examined you, but I could guarantee that when you became the Rector Lamia, your magic grew again.  I don't know if you realize just how much magic is inside of you, or how much magic your body produces."

"Where are you going with this?" Harry interrupted.

"When you bonded with Olivia, your powers bonded with her.  For an instant, you were completely connected," Mikhail said.

"The child within her is a combination of the two of you," Illiona continued when Mikhail fumbled.  "The child will be a witch, who once grown will probably be nearly as powerful as you.  That is all inside of her, Harry.  All that magic.  Harry, her body wasn't made to handle that."

"What are you saying?"

"She's dying, Harry," Skya said gently.  "She's going to continue to have random bursts of magic throughout the pregnancy.  They will leave her feeling weak and drained.  By the fifth month, I doubt she'll even be able to get out of bed.  If she survives till the end of the pregnancy, her body will begin to recover, but with the magic gone, she'll slowly go insane."

"If she had been out of the transition, we could probably guarantee that the baby will be born, but since she doesn't have the added strength that comes from the final transition, we can't even promise that," Newt continued.

"So what you're telling me is that because of me, my friend is going to die, and it's unlikely that the reason this all happened is going to live either?" Harry fought back angry tears.

"This would have happened to anyone you mated with Harry," Illiona said quietly.  "The only one you could have successfully mated with was another wizard turned vampire, and you are the only one."

"No one knew about this," Mikhail said.  "How could we know?  No one would have insisted that you mated if we knew."

"I'd like to be alone with my wife," Harry said and stood.  "Please excuse me."  He left and entered the bedroom.

He walked over to the bed and sat down beside the sleeping Olivia.  She opened her eyes and smiled sadly.  "I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed," she whispered and began to cry softly.

Harry couldn't hold back his own tears.  "It's my fault.  I'm sorry I did this to you," he choked out and gathered her up in his arms.

They laid there crying until both fell asleep.

***

Harry threw himself into his work.  He trained the younger vampires, set up more classrooms and required every vampire to learn to read and write and to speak three languages.  Most chose Gaelic – the common tongue – Elvish, and Latin.  He tested his new abilities as the Rector Lamia, discovering things that he wasn't sure if any of his predecessors knew or possibly had the ability to do.  For example, he discovered quite by accident that he was able to communicate telepathically with any vampire.

Jason had been sparring with one of Harry's older students, who had been losing spectacularly, when Harry had silently said, _'Lucius, why haven't you bothered to study your opponent?  You should have figured out by now that if you knock his legs out from under him it will take awhile before he can manage to get up.  His body isn't built to allow a speedy recovery from such a fall.'_

Lucius had instantly pulled off of the defensive and tackled Jason's legs.  Jason of course went down, and Lucius managed to pin him for a few moments before Jason recovered and managed to dislodge him. 

"I'm sorry, Harry," Lucius said after the match was over.  "I'll examine my opponents better in the future."

Harry blinked.  "Good," he said, for lack of anything better.  _'I said that out loud?'_ he questioned himself.  _'I'm surprised Jason didn't kill me.'_

Later on, after a similar event, Harry began to wonder if something wasn't up.  Knowing she wouldn't laugh, he went to Olivia to test his theory.  Afterwards, he was glad he did.  Olivia had welcomed the normalcy of Harry coming to her when he was worried Jason would tease him.

He used his new found ability to play pranks on Jason until the older vampire figured out something was going on.  Harry then announced it to his staff, who then spread the word around the coven.  It was actually very useful, as it turned out that someone wishing to speak to him could do so as well.  Warnings about werewolves could be passed around immediately.  If a vampire needed assistance, he could call Harry for help, and Harry could send the closest person to aid the one in trouble.  Newt and he agreed that it must be a result of his task of controlling the bloodlust and his magic combining.

With the discovery of his telepathic abilities, Harry began testing himself and the other vampires for other unknown abilities.  What he found was astonishing.  Vampires have four bonds.  The first bond is the one of the Rector Lamia.  It binds every vampire together through one person, and that person is given the task of controlling the bloodlust.  With Harry's magic now filtering through the bond, they had gained the ability to speak telepathically through him.  Harry also knows exactly where every vampire is in relation to himself.  

The second bond is the mating bond.  Other than Harry's own bond, it appears to have remained the same: just the combining of two vampires to produce a child.  Because of Harry's magic, it has twisted and is killing Olivia; everyone else seems unaffected.  The third bond is turning bond.  The bond that connects a turned vampire and its Sire.  Before it formed a telepathic bond between the Sire and the student that lasted until the student had been in the transition for twenty years.  It now also allows the Sire to have some influence on the bloodlust of their student.  The fourth bond is the parent-child bond of the vampire-borns.  It is the one that has changed the most since Harry's ascension.  Previously, it allowed only for a minimal influence upon the bloodlust of the child by both of the parents.  Now it also allows conversation between the parent and the child, and knowledge of health that goes both ways on the bond.  Meaning that the child knows when the parent is injured just as the parent knows when the child is injured.

***

It pained Harry to see Olivia suffering.  He began to wonder if she would even make it to the third month.  She was always tired, with circles under her eyes.  She didn't have the energy to train, so her muscles were loosening.  She was unable to hunt, so Harry went out almost every night and brought her back a live human.  Time passed and Olivia's health deteriorated further.

She was confined to her bed at the beginning of her fourth month.  Harry sometimes found it difficult to go to their bed at night, knowing in what condition he would find her in.  By her seventh month, she rarely woke up, too exhausted to do anything but sleep.  Harry took to sleeping in his office.  A few weeks before her due date, Olivia went into labor.

Mikhail, Newt, and Illiona came to deliver the baby.  The first thing they did was toss Harry out.  Skya and Jason dragged him outside and up to the aboveground home of the Rector Lamia.  The place was dusty as Harry hadn't ever gotten around to cleaning it out from Eric and Alcoyne's use.  Jason and Skya set him working at cleaning the place up, figuring that if they kept him busy, he wouldn't be so worried.  He finished a few hours later, but no one had come to tell them what was going on, and Harry didn't want to ask Mikhail or Olivia telepathically, worried he might distract them at a critical moment.

Dawn was breaking when Mikhail summoned Harry.  Harry dashed out of the house with Jason and Skya on his heels.  It didn't take him long to come thundering into his home underground, nearly crashing into Illiona who had been waiting for him in the receiving room.  

"Well," he demanded.

Illiona gave him a slight smile.  "The baby is fine, and Olivia is resting."

Harry smiled at her gratefully.  "Thank you, Illiona," he said fighting back tears and quietly went into the bedroom.

Mikhail was cleaning up and Newt was holding the baby when he walked in.  Newt smiled at him and walked over to him.  Harry couldn't seem to move.  Newt placed the baby in Harry's arms.  "Your daughter, Rector Lamia."

Harry looked down at his daughter.  If he had been any other man, he probably would have dropped her in shock.  Fortunately only his jaw dropped.  "Merlin," he breathed.  A lightning bolt birthmark was on her forehead, right where Harry's scar was on his.  He cast a concealing charm on it and the birthmark disappeared and stayed gone.  Harry glanced up at Newt.  "The concealing charm works on hers, but not on mine," he explained, then took off the charm.  He smiled at down at her.  He found himself counting fingers and toes.  "She's beautiful," he whispered.

"Have you chosen her name yet?" Mikhail asked.

In this time period, it was customary for the father to choose the name without any say from the mother.  Even in the coven that was true.  However, Harry asked Olivia for her opinion anyway.  "We decided to name her after our mothers.  Her name is Lily Aluva," he replied.  _'Potter,'_ he added silently.  Olivia was a vampire-born, the daughter of the Aluva, one of the oldest vampires until she perished in the last battle with the werewolves.

"It's a beautiful name," Newt said honestly.

Harry smiled at him.  "Has Olivia seen her yet?"

"Just briefly," Mikhail replied.  "She fell asleep almost immediately after the birth."

Lily cooed at her father.  "How long until…" Harry couldn't finish the question.

Newt sighed.  "She'll probably spend the next few days sleeping," he glanced at Mikhail for confirmation and the healer nodded.  "In about a week, we'll see the first symptoms of magic withdrawal."

***

Vampire-borns skip over the birthing stage that turned vampires have.  They require blood immediately; however they do not drink the blood of humans, they drink the blood of their parents.  They continue to drink vampire blood until they are five years old, then they are slowly weaned off of it and on to human blood.  The babies feed once a day until they are two years old, when the feedings increase to twice a day.  When the babies reach their fourth year, they are fed once a week.  When the child is five and the weaning process begins, they are fed once a month.  The babies require the turned blood because they cannot change the blood of humans yet.

Harry spent as much time as he could with his daughter.  Since Olivia wasn't able to help him, Harry drafted one of the transition vampires to help.  When Harry was busy teaching, Lucius cared for Lily, and when Harry was teaching Lucius, Jason watched over her.  Lucius had been one of Harry's students for nearly fifty years, and Harry trusted the dark-haired child.  

Many of the younger vampires followed Harry's lead of stopping their ageing at younger ages than following the older vampires who stopped somewhere between thirty and forty.  Now, vampires were stopping between fifteen and twenty-five.  Even Olivia had done so upon meeting Harry.  She had stopped at nineteen.

Two days after the birth, Olivia woke up.  She was still fairly weak, but Mikhail said she should try getting up.  Harry helped her try to stand and walk about.  They had done their best to keep her muscles from atrophying, but they had still wasted away quite a bit.  She found it difficult and tiring to walk.  She played with Lily while she could, knowing she wouldn't have much time with her daughter.  Harry found it difficult to talk to her, knowing that while her body was recovering, her mind was going into a magic withdrawal that would drive her insane.

The first symptom was the disappearance of Olivia's usually sweet temper.  Instead Harry found himself being yelled at and insulted every time he came into the same room as her.  Harry stopped allowing Olivia to see Lily.  He didn't want his mate to harm their daughter.  He knew that the both of them would never forgive themselves if something happened to their daughter.  Olivia's body grew stronger and she soon had the strength to walk around.  However, she kept to their rooms.  

Two weeks later, Harry and Lucius were returning from a training session and found the rooms empty.  Harry felt uneasy and handed Lily to Lucius.  He searched the rooms again, but Olivia didn't magically reappear.  "Stay here," he commanded.

_'Olivia?'_ he called to her mind.  He tried to figure out where she was based upon the distance from him and began climbing up to the upper levels.

_'Harry,'_ her soft voice replied.

_'Where are you?'_

_'I didn't want you to remember me like this.'_

Harry stopped walking abruptly.  _'Olivia?'_

_'I had hoped that I would die in our daughter's birth.  Oh, how I wanted to die…'_

"Merlin," Harry breathed in shocked realization.  He began to run.  _'Olivia, don't do it!'_

_'Don't you see?  It's better this way.  I could cause so much trouble later, when I have no control whatsoever.  I could end up killing another vampire.  I could end up killing our daughter!'_

Harry tried to go faster, knowing exactly where his mate was going.  Olivia was still in the transition.  The fastest way was to walk outside into the sunlight.  Harry remembered finding his sister's burned body.  The thought of doing the same with Olivia made him feel sick.  He gave up talking to his mate, and sent out a message to every vampire to find Olivia and stop her from going outside.

'I'm sorry, Harry.'

Harry gasped and stumbled to a halt.  He felt as though some part of him had been ripped away.  And it had.  The brief pain of loosing a vampire from the Rector Lamia's bond was numbed by the grief of knowing who had been lost.  He began running again.

When he finally reached the surface, there were eight vampires clustered around the body, waiting for him.  Olivia's blond hair was blackened, her pale skin burnt and peeling, her eyelids were open, her eye sockets empty.  He couldn't stop the tears even if he tried.  He kneeled down beside her, gently picking up her burnt body, cradling it to his own.

He carried her down to the Isle of the Dead, as the island he had created had come to be called.  He conjured her a coffin and laid her inside.  He summoned her weapons: a bow and quiver, a sword and a glaive.  He laid them in with her.  He summoned her armor: a wooden shield and arm braces.  He laid those with her as well.  He conjured the lid, creating it with her body and features carved into it.  He sealed her in.  He knelt down beside it and carved her name into it, in English.  Her full name: Princess Olivia Waters Potter.  Underneath, he wrote: wife, mother, friend.

When he was finished, he traced over the words with shaky fingers.  He bit his lip, drawing blood.  He rested his head on the coffin and sobbed.

***

TBC…

A/N:  …anyone need a tissue?  I'm sure that you all are wondering why I had Harry mate and produce an heir.  You all are probably wondering if Lily is going to become a Mary Sue.  *bangs readers over the head with frying pan* I already told you there will be NO Mary Sues!   As I am sure most of you have already figured this out, Harry is going to live until his time comes back around.  I personally don't see how in two thousand plus years he can get out of mating and producing an heir unless he has a tragic event to stop him.  The above was his tragic event.  We got to save him for Severus remember? *wink wink*

I'm working on pictures of Olivia and Lily, so when I'm finished with them, I'll scan them in and put them up at my group.  Which reminds me, don't you all think that considering the power of Harry's curse scar that it would end up becoming a birthmark on his children?  I've never seen it used that way in a story… then again I rarely read stories about Harry's children unless they are part of an Mpreg Harry/Severus fic *giggle*  anyway… my Yahoo! Group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/HuntressSmiles

In chapter four we are going to get the new race like I said in the previous author's notes, and two people have guessed the correct answer… I think it's two… anyway, I'll check again before I post chapter four and give the names of those who guessed correctly.  However, both of the two people guessed correctly in a list of guesses.  I now challenge you to guess correctly without a list!  Let me think; also in chapter four we get Harry's first battle and the transition between familiars and wands.  We'll also get some 'Harry as a Daddy' scenes.

As always, please feel free to ask me questions.  If you're having trouble understanding something, then please let me know.  Unfortunately, questions are more likely to be answered if you ask them at my group than if you ask me in an e-mail.  I have the very bad habit of forgetting to respond back to e-mails.  If you are one of those people who sent me an e-mail and didn't get a response back, I'm sooooo sorry.  If you did get a response back… you lucky dogs!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or sent me an e-mail.  All encouragement is appreciated.

~Artemis Luna Diana~

ps – for some dumb reason I'm sure, FF.Net keeps screwing up the formatting to my fics, i.e. making something left aligned when it should be centered.  Anyway, I'll replace this with a properly formatted chapter when it begins behaving itself again.


	5. Chapter Four: Blood Enemies

**Title:** Blood

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadiana@yahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.  

**Summary:  **Thrust into the distant past and turned into a vampire against his will, Harry struggles to understand what he has become and tries to fill his one desire: to get home.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to:** snapeysnapesnape for the excellent beta.

Chapter Four: Blood Enemies

Harry stretched as he walked down to his rooms.  He'd just spent the last three hours teaching his Latin class.  He hoped that the vampires would benefit from learning to speak various languages.  He felt it would help them blend in during their travels and – hopefully soon – on long distance hunts.  He was working with Illiona on trying to create a portkey.  With portkeys, the vampires wouldn't have to worry about wiping out their food source.  Harry was also trying to find another source of food, something to replace blood.  Transfigured blood didn't work, but he hoped that maybe if he could find a Potions Master, they might be able to come up with something.

Harry cracked his knuckles as he thought.  He'd spent the day teaching, as usual, first training the most advanced of his students, then his beginners had taken up the rest of the day until his Latin class.  He was looking forward to going home.

"Papa!"

Harry grinned and scooped up the six-year-old Lily in his arms.  He placed a quick kiss on her lips before greeting her.  "Hello, little one.  How was your day?"

"Great!  I spent the morning with Uncle Jason training, then Lucius came and took me to writing class.  He spent at least an hour lecturing us on our 'despicable grammar' and that wasn't so great…. Anyway, then Priestess Rachael came and took us all down to the Isle of the Dead and told us about Rector Lamia Quentin.  She said that he was your Sire."

"That's right," Harry acknowledged.  He nodded to the young vampire that had been watching Lily till he got home, as she walked out of the Rector Lamia's quarters.  He walked into the receiving room and sat down, too tired to go in his home further.  He reclined on the chaise lounge and Lily settled down beside him, still continuing to inform him of her day.

"I stopped and prayed at Mommy's grave," she said seriously, with only a small smile.  Even this young, she knew that mentioning her mother made her father sad.

"That's good," he said softly, "I'm sure she'd be very happy to know you'd visited her."

"After that, I played with Justin and Thomas in the Meeting Hall until Elder Donny chased us out."

Harry paused her narrative.  "Why did Donny chase you out?"

"He said we were being 'loud and obnoxious' and that we were 'a disgrace to every vampire.'" Lily giggled.  "Justin was kind of sad but I told him that Elder Donny was just having a bad day.  Thomas said it was because Elder Donny didn't know how to have any fun."

Harry tried to look stern while fighting back a smile.  "You still haven't answered my question.  What were you three doing?"

Lily gave him a sunny smile.  "Playing tag."

Harry laughed.  "You ran across the tables again, didn't you?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, keep going," Harry said smiling.

***

Harry tucked the covers up around Lily while she slept oblivious in her bed.  He touched the hovering glowglobe beside her bed, extinguishing the soft light, and left the room.  He paused in the doorway and looked back.  Whereas he seemed to be almost a carbon copy of his father, Lily was a beautiful blend of Olivia and him.  Soft brown hair that must have come from Olivia's side of the family, Olivia's light blue eyes and her nose.  She didn't have Olivia's high cheekbones or her pointed chin.  She seemed to favor his features instead of her mother's.  And she had his scar, a birthmark on her forehead.  Considering both of her parents were short, he wondered how tall she would end up growing to be.  A slight smile played about his lips; she was so precious to him.  He unloosed the tie that held the drapes back, sending her bedroom in total darkness.

He walked into his office and sat down at his desk.  He was tired.  It was so difficult trying to raise Lily on his own.  The other vampires helped, but it wasn't the same as having a partner.  And if that wasn't enough, he was trying to lead a people.  He was as they say "overworked and underpaid."  He sighed and reached for his latest journal.  Sometimes he felt like skipping this chore, but knew he'd regret it later.  He picked up a quill and opened the journal to a fresh page.  

It had been fifty-seven years since the last werewolf battle, and it was nearing time for another one.  Harry worried.  He was expected to lead the vampires in the next battle, yet he had never been in one.  He was afraid that he'd be killed and leave Lily on her own.  He had given up on getting home.  At least for now, he had Lily to care for, and he'd need to figure out a way of transferring the blood of the Rector Lamia without ending up dead afterwards.  He wrote about his students, those he thought showed the most promise, as well as the things Lily had told him.  He didn't have a camera so he couldn't take pictures of her.  Writing in his journal was the only way he could capture her childhood… after all, he couldn't draw worth a crap.  

He smiled slightly in thought.  As an immortal, he could do all of those things he'd always wanted to: learn to play an instrument, learn to sing, learn to draw… the possibilities were endless… if he could stay alive.  He sighed.  The future was so depressing.

After he finished his entry and updated the book of vampires, he stood up and stretched.  He was exhausted.  He tapped the glowglobe hovering above his desk and walked out of the darkened room.  He entered his bedroom.  He untied the drapes and let them fall, closing off his room, and stripped.  He grabbed a pair of soften linen pants and put them on.  He touched the glowglobe floating beside the bed and climbed in.  He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***

{11 years later}

Harry sat at his desk scowling over his latest stack of reports.  It was all well and good to have a well run government, but the paperwork such a government produced was annoying as hell.

"Dad?"

Harry glanced up.  "Hey.  I thought you were supposed to go out with Justin and Thomas on the hunt tonight.  What are you still doing here?"

She sat down at the table closest to his desk.  "I decided not to go.  I wanted to talk to you."

Harry pushed his reports aside and put his quill up.  He stood and joined her at the table.  "Is something wrong?"

"Dad, why won't you age?"

Harry was taken aback.  Of all the things he thought could be wrong, this was not anywhere near what he was expecting.

"I mean, I already look almost three years older than you.  I'm taller than you."

"Not by much," Harry interrupted.

"I'm more," she blushed.  "_developed_ than you."

Harry blinked.  

"You still look like a little kid and you're the leader of the vampires!"

"Lily," Harry said, halting her speech.  "What brought this on?"

"I heard some of the older vampires talking.  They said that you won't be able to lead the vampires into battle because your body is inferior and if you try to lead them as you are, then you will only end up dead.  Dad, I don't want you to die."

"Lily, I'm going to do my best to stay alive.  I'd love to promise you that I will still be alive after the next battle, but I've always told you that I won't make you a promise that I can't keep.  In a battle, there are no guarantees.  I won't promise you that I'll come back, when I just don't know what will happen.  I can, however, assure you that my body is not inferior.  It is in peak physical condition.  I have an extremely high level of endurance and am very fast.  I am without question one of the best fighters in the coven.  I am also able to wield magic.  I am perfectly capable of leading the vampires into battle.  I am not inferior, and neither is anyone else who chooses to stop aging as young as I have."

Lily remained silent a moment.  "Are you ever going to begin aging again?"

"Yes.  But not any time soon."  He sighed.  "Lily, the others are afraid, and they have a good reason.  It's true that I've never been in a major battle.  They are afraid that I will end up getting them all killed.  Everyone fears the unknown.  Their fear is what causes them to worry about something that doesn't matter.  My body's age doesn't matter.  My reflexes, my skills, and my experience is the work of 161 years.  When the battle comes, there will be some out there, the vampire-born, who will only have 100 years experience.  Many of them will still be alive after the battle is through."

"I'm scared."

"I know."

***

Harry leaned up against the wall outside of Lily's room.  What was he supposed to do?  He had this body for 146 years.  He knew exactly what it did and how to make it do what he wanted it to.  Yet, if he began aging again, his people would feel safer.  How could he choose?  He didn't know if aging would help him or not, and the thought of risking any of his abilities made his blood run cold.  He couldn't risk the safety of his people in battle on an unfamiliar body just so they could feel better before the battle began.  He could not age.

He glanced at the closed drapes leading to Lily's room.  He hoped that his daughter would not be overly affected by his choice.  He hoped she could understand his decision.  He straightened and left the hall, entering the receiving room, and then leaving his quarters.

He walked to the cavern where the Isle of the Dead slept at the center of the lake.  He walked across the crystal bridge and stepped onto the soft grass.  Here on the island, the torches had not been replaced by the glowglobes, and the sounds of dancing fire and shifting water mingled.  He passed by the shrine to Quentin and walked to Olivia's tomb.  He knelt down beside her.

"Olivia?  What should I do?  I cannot tell her about my past, there is too much at risk.  She's so young, and she doesn't understand my choices.  She wants to know why, and I can't tell her.  I wish you were still here.  I need your guidance.  Jason cannot help me.  I would have gone to you for help.  I know, you would have known what to do."

He fell silent for awhile.  "You would have been proud of her, Olivia.  She's done so well.  I look at her and I see you.  She is so much stronger than I was at her age.  She's so confident."

"You've done a good job raising her."

Harry stood up, whipping around and found High Priestess Rachael watching him.  "Priestess.  You walk on Death's feet."

She smiled slightly.  "I have much respect for the dead and their carrier."

He studied her as she leaned on one of the trees near Olivia's tomb.  "It's considered rude by many, to listen to the living's conversations with the dead."

"As a priestess, it is my job to listen to the conversations with the dead."

"Only to those who follow you."

"No, to all those who feel the need to speak with the dead.  Why do you feel the need?"

"I don't believe that is any of your business."

"Could it be because of the unrest growing in the coven?  The battle with the werewolves is coming closer.  Are you prepared?"

"I am as ready as I can be."

"That is not enough."

"What would you have me do?  Seek out the werewolves and begin the battle?  We have never been the aggressors in this war.  I will not start the vampires on that path."

"I didn't say that you should begin the battle.  I said that what you are doing is not enough.  They don't have faith in you, Rector Lamia."

"They—"

"They do not have faith in someone who has faith in no one.  You believe in nothing, therefore they cannot believe in you.  Do you believe in anything?  You speak to the dead, you must believe in something.  What is it?"

"I know that those who have died can hear us.  I know that some stay on this plane.  They may not be solid; they may not be able to influence anything, but they exist.  There is something beyond this life.  I believe in that."

"Then why don't you admit to it, to them.  They don't know that you come here for guidance.  Why do you keep it a secret?"

"I don't want to influence anyone else's beliefs.  My beliefs are my own."

"What about your magic?  How do you think you got it?"

"I was born with it."

"Why you?  What made you so special?"

"My parents came from magic."

"And did their parents come from magic?"

"My father did.  My mother was born of humans."

"So what made her different?"

"I don't know."

"She must have done something."

"I don't know."

"Perhaps it was given to her."

"I told you, I don't know."

"Do you know where magic comes from, vampire-wizard?"

"No, I only know that it began here, in this land."

"At one time, there was no magic.  There were no wizards, vampires, elves, dragons, nothing.  This land had six tribes living in different areas of the island.  Then It came, and with It came change.  The tribe closest to It was transformed by Its' presence.  They are the elves.  The tribe that was nearest them was also transformed.  They are the vampires.  The next three tribes were an equal distance away from the others, but in opposite directions.  They are the wizards, werewolves, and the veelas.  The last tribe remained untouched by It.  They are the humans that are still living in this land.  Beasts and birds were also transformed.  The closer to Its' presence, the more severe the transformation.  Dragons were very close to It."

"What is It?"

"Some say It was a star that fell to earth."

"A meteor?"

Rachael remained silent.

"You're saying that magic came from a meteor that fell to earth?  A large hunk of rock fell to the earth and caused magic to come into existence."

"That is what we are taught."

Harry frowned.  A thought suddenly hit him.  "How long ago?  How long ago did they think this happened?"

"Millions upon millions of years ago."

"Perhaps 65 million years ago?"

Rachael frowned.  "Why do you want to know?"

"But that can't be right.  The meteor that took out the dinosaurs crashed into the Gulf of Mexico.  …unless there were two meteors.  And the second meteor hit Britain or close to it.  Then the changes, the magic, that the second meteor brought, altered everything.  The dinosaurs didn't die out, they changed into the different kinds of dragons.  And the pre-human mammals became human, except for those that were too close to the meteor.  It affected the entire world, but Britain had the most significant changes, so… oh, my God…"  Harry stared at Rachael in shock; he was completely speechless.  "Fucking hell."  

***

Harry had always wanted some sort of pet project that he could occupy his time with.  Something to occupy his brain since there just wasn't really much beyond fighting and hunting to do in the coven.  However, he almost wished that the thought hadn't occurred to him.  It was driving him crazy to not have access to any materials to help him figure out if his theory was possible.

He glanced up when someone cleared their throat behind him.  "Lily, anything wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I decided something this morning, and I thought you'd like to be the first to know.  I've decided to stop aging.  I'll continue to look seventeen until you start aging again, then I'll start aging again too."

Harry smiled slightly.  "You don't have to stop aging for me."

"I'm comfortable with this body.  I think I want to keep it for at least a few hundred years."

Harry laughed softly.  "Okay."  He stood up and grabbed her, embracing her.  He laughed again.  "Couldn't you have decided to do this earlier?  Your mother was taller than me, and so are you."

Lily giggled.

***

{25 years later}

"Thrust… parry…" Harry called out; his students executed his commands to the best of their abilities.  

He had been drilling them for a little over an hour when he felt a tingle of magic touch his mind.  It took a moment for him to recognize what caused it.  When he did, he paled slightly and called a halt to the lesson.

"Go to your quarters immediately," he ordered.

His students were surprised, but followed his orders without question.  He picked up his polearm and left the room.  He walked upward towards the surface, sending out a mental message to all the vampires as he went.  _'All vampires in the transition and the birthing, return to your quarters immediately.  Everyone else, prepare for battle and go to the surface, now.'_

He felt the touch of Jason's mental voice, but only acknowledged it with a curt, _'Werewolf attack.'_ and then ignored his further requests for an audience.

When he reached the surface and was certain that all the Daylight vampires were above ground, he cast a magic barrier on the entrance to the coven, sealing in the younger vampires.  He spoke mentally to ensure that everyone heard him.  _'The werewolves are half a mile north of the coven.'_

Harry led them north.  There were four hundred and fifty six vampires above ground, a hundred and fifty more than what Quentin had when he led the vampires in the last battle.  However, the werewolves could have just as many more than they did in the previous battle.  

His throat felt dry and his polearm seemed heavier than normal.  He saw Rachael out of the corner of his eye; her glaive seemed to shimmer in the half-light under the canopy.  When they were nearly upon the werewolves' position, he called Rachael over to him.  

"High Priestess," he said loudly, so those around could hear him.  "We are about to battle our enemies.  I ask you to bless our people for victory and for the safety of the children in the coven."

Rachael did a good job hiding her surprise at his request.  The vampires were all beginning to relax and look to him with trust and faith.  He had managed to show them that he was not above belief and that even he leaned on faith.  They saw that Harry believed in something, and while they may never know exactly what that was, they could believe in him.  He could lead them to victory.

When Rachael had finished her blessing, Harry lifted his polearm into the air and shouted.  "For Quentin!" With a loud cry, the vampires charged forward.

***

Anyone who says that battle is a glorious thing was obviously insane.  Never had he been around so much chaos.  It was sometimes even difficult to figure out who was the enemy and who was a friend.  He was covered in blood.  Filthy blood, the blood of werewolves.  His polearm was bathed in it.  Another slash.  Another werewolf's head removed.  A loud snapping sound and a glance behind.  Another vampire taken out by the teeth of a wolf.

They were massing around him.  He couldn't figure out how they knew he was the Rector Lamia.  He heard a scream and saw Rachael, her arm encased in the mouth of a werewolf.  He charged towards her, bringing his polearm down, impaling the werewolf to the ground.  He pressed a foot down on the body and pulled up, ripping the blade free.  A bit of magic, and Rachael's arm was free from the werewolf's mouth. 

He heard the whistle of a blade coming towards him and Rachael's choked warning.  He turned, bringing up his weapon to block the sword trying to his slice his head off.  That was perhaps the most disturbing thing about this battle.  The werewolves were transforming back and forth between forms.  It was difficult to defend against.  One moment you were protecting yourself from a sword and the next it was a massive set of teeth.

Another twinge in his chest.  Another vampire fallen.  Another shout of triumph.  Another werewolf fallen.  Another howl of victory.  Another vampire fallen.  Another howl of loss.  Another werewolf fallen.  Clash of swords.  Twang of bows.  Screams of pain.  All the sounds blended together.  His increased senses even brought him the sounds of dying moans and last breaths.  And everywhere was the stench of blood.

He didn't know how the battle ended.  It seemed like one moment, there were enemies all around, and the next there was only the sound of the dying.  The werewolves had fled.  They had won, but at what cost?  He couldn't count how many vampires he'd seen fall, or how many times his chest had hurt with the passing of one of his people.  He stared down at his blood covered weapon.  He cast a cleaning charm on it, removing all the blood, and then shrank it and sheathed it.  He drew one of his daggers and began looking for survivors.

He saw a werewolf trying to flee with a gut wound and walked over to it.  He kicked it over onto its back and plunged the dagger into its throat.  It made a choked, gasping sound and died.  He pulled up on the dagger, removing it from the werewolf's throat.  One less werewolf to breed for the next battle.

"Rector…" a breathy, pain-filled voice called.

Harry quickly went to the side of the fallen vampire.  "Shhh," he soothed.  "I'm here; I'll help you."  

***

{2 months later}

"In an effort to prevent any more wars between those of magic, you have all been called here," Illiona spoke.

Harry leaned up against the back wall.  Jason was on his right, and Rachael was on his left.  She had become his confessor of sorts.  She also kept him appraised of the feelings of the other vampires for him.  He trusted her almost as much as he trusted Illiona and Skya.

He glanced around the room.  There were five delegations at this little meeting of Illiona's.  He was curious what had prompted her to call it.  Why had she decided to get involved in the war?

"So the vampires have finally admitted that they are weak and inferior," one of the werewolves taunted.  "But are too cowardly to say it themselves.  They had to get their pet elves to tell everyone."

"The war is not over," Jason snarled.  "Unless you had the elves call this meeting to submit your surrender."

"Jason," Harry snapped.  

Jason settled back down, but he was still tense.

"The cowards ran from the last battle.  I'm sure that Illiona wants them to stay long enough for her to finish speaking before you chase them off."  Jason and Rachael both laughed, and Harry smirked.  "Please continue, Illiona."

"Thank you, Rector Lamia."  She did not look happy with him.  "As I was saying, this meeting is an effort to prevent any more wars from breaking out.  Nothing can be done about the vampire/werewolf war; it has been going on for far too long for a simple meeting to end it.  However, the wizard battles that have begun in the north can be prevented.  As can any other potential problems that are not yet known."

Harry looked over at the wizard delegation, and realized that it was not one delegation.  There were three separate groups within it.  What had been going on in the wizardng world?

"Why have you called us here?" a woman demanded.

"We called the veelas because they are a part of the magical community as well," Illiona replied.

Harry looked back at the woman.  Yes, he could see now that she was a veela.  So, the five races were veela, vampire, werewolf, elf, and wizard.

"The wizards do not concern us; they can't use their magic to do harm," one of the werewolves snapped.  Soon everyone was bickering.  Harry kept Rachael and Jason from jumping in.  _'You will behave, even if no one else does,' _he told them.

When one of the wizards drew a wand and pointed it at a witch with an owl on her arm, Harry acted.  _"Expelliarmus!"_ he shouted, drawing his own wand.  The wizard was blasted back and crashed into the wall with a great deal of force.  Harry wouldn't be surprised if the man's ribs were broken.  The man's wand landed in Harry's hand.  

Harry walked forward in the silence, telling Jason and Rachael to stay back.  "What did you think you were doing?" he seethed to the fallen wizard.

"You have a wand!" one of the witches managed to finally speak.

"Yes, I do.  My question is why don't they?" he asked and pointed to the wizards and witches who were still using familiars.  "Why would you keep a breakthrough in magic to yourself?  Could it be because using a wand does not limit you to positive spells?  If you use a wand, you can inflict harm, as I just did."  Harry tossed the wizard's wand on the floor beside him.  

"What?" the witch with the owl asked.  "Why would you keep that to yourself?"

"It gives them an advantage," Harry replied.

"But, magic should be shared between us all.  We inform you of any spells we create.  Why?  Why wouldn't you tell us?  How long have you had them?" she demanded.

"Over one hundred and fifty years," one of them replied.  "I'm Rubeus Ollivander, my great grandfather invented them."

"And you didn't think that the rest of the wizarding world should know?" she yelled.

"Wands should be banned," one of the werewolves snarled before the argument could get any farther.  "They should be kept from doing harm."

"Well then, let's remove your teeth and claws," Harry snapped.  "It'll keep you from doing harm."

The werewolf started for Harry but the veela woman that had spoken tripped him, and he sprawled across the floor.  The werewolf started for her, but the veelas around her prevented him from touching her.

"Order!" Illiona yelled.  "This meeting is suppose to prevent conflict, not start it!"  She took a deep breath before speaking again.  "We'll stop until the wizards can come to some sort of agreement and chose a representative.  Once they have chosen, only one representative for each race will be allowed to attend the meeting, so chose well.  Dismissed."

Harry turned and met the eyes of the veela woman.  He inclined his head slightly, thanking her for preventing the werewolf from reaching him.  She smirked and walked to him.  He felt Jason and Rachael approach him.  The three reached him at the same time.  

The veela held out a hand.  "Fleur, Queen of the Veelas."

Harry's eyes widened slightly.  He'd never heard of a Queen of Veelas, granted he didn't know much about veelas though.  He shook her hand.  "Harry, Rector Lamia."  He noticed Fleur showed the same surprise he had.  "My second, Jason, and one of my advisors, Rachael, High Priestess of the Earth Goddess."

***

It took over three weeks before the wizards straightened out their mess and chose a representative.  All of their secrets were shared and agreements were signed.  Harry was grateful that the communities already interacted, otherwise it could have taken much longer.

Illiona was the representative for the elves.  Harry was the representative for the vampires.  Fleur was the representative for the veelas.  Matthew, one of the Royal Werewolves, was their representative.  The witch with the owl that Harry had protected that first day was chosen as the representative for the wizards.  Her name was Victoria Snape.  

For the first time in centuries, Harry was reminded of his old potions professor.  He tried to remember what he looked like and could only remember that he had greasy hair and yellowed teeth.  He vaguely sort of remembered cracking jokes about how ugly he was.  He did remember that he was an excellent potion maker.  Perhaps Victoria might be someone to ask about brewing blood.  He dismissed thoughts of Severus Snape from his mind as unimportant.

***

Four months later, it was readily evident that everyone was amendable to having a council that could serve as a way to get in touch with each race.  Each council member held the same importance as the others.  They would meet every fifty years, and emergency meetings were allowed to be called by any member.

Harry found himself liking Fleur very much.  He was also learning a lot about veelas that he hadn't known before.  Veela Queens lived longer than any other type of veela.  A Veela Queen lives about three thousand years, while the average veela lives only three hundred years.  At any time, there is only one Veela Queen.  When the old one dies, the new one is born.  Fleur was still very young.  She was only one hundred and twenty-two.

As he recalled, the quarter-veela he'd meet back at Hogwarts was named Fleur.  Her parents must have named her after the woman standing in front of him.  It was an interesting thought.  

Unfortunately, four months of speaking with Victoria Snape allowed him to discover that although she was a Snape, she was a horrible potions maker.  It seemed he would have to continue to wait to find someone to help him discover a way to rid the vampires of their need for blood.  If it was even possible.

***

With the birth of the magical council, Harry was finally able to do something he'd wanted to do for quite some time.  He visited every wizarding village and town and researched the genealogy of every single one.  He then gathered the data he collected and combined it with the information he'd gotten from his mentor Newt McGonagall.  

Next, with Illiona's help, he devised a spell that would record the birth, death, and marriage of anyone related to the names he'd gathered.  He now had a working genealogy of the entire wizarding world.  He'd have to add any Muggle-born families, but all the same, it was a very good accomplishment.

***

{249 years later - 30 AD}

Harry was working in his office when he felt a mental touch asking for permission to speak.  He sat back in his chair and acknowledged the voice.

_'Rector Lamia, this is Claudius, in Jerusalem.  The event you asked about… the death of Jesus of Nazareth.  It has just happened.'_

_'Thank you, Claudius.  Stay a fortnight and then return to the coven.'_

_'Yes, Sire.'_

Harry stared at his desk pensively.  It was now possible to figure out when he had arrived in the past.  Jesus Christ was murdered in the year 30AD.  He knew that for sure; now he could backdate all of his journal entries to figure out when he had arrived.  He grabbed his journal and began backdating.

It took him almost two weeks to go through all of his journals and backdate the entries.  When he reached the first entry, the one he made about three months after his arrival… 365BC.  It was so far… it hadn't seemed real.  Now, he knew exactly how long it would take before he reached his own time: 1,965 years.  Fuck.

***

{13 years later – 43 AD}

Harry was clothed all in black.  A sword was sheathed at his left hip, and a black cloak helped to hide it.  A hood concealed his face from view.  He walked quickly and quietly.  An emergency meeting had been called.  He came upon the clearing and found Illiona cloaked in darkness just as he was.  Fleur was dressed as she was to every meeting; the secrecy didn't seem to bother her.  Richard, the wizards' envoy was dressed for darkness in black robes, his wand was clutched in a white-knuckled grip in his left hand.

Harry sniffed delicately and recognized the scent of a human.  _'One of the humans had come to the council… what the hell for?'_

A new scent came to him: werewolf.  He had to bite back a snarl.  When the werewolf emerged from the woods, Illiona spoke.  

"We are all here.  Why have you summoned us, Richard?"

"The humans have approached us with a request.  I've brought this one to speak for them," he replied.

"Speak, human," the werewolf growled.

"The Celtic people ask that you help defend the land from the invading Romans," the human began.

Harry straightened abruptly.  _'Holy hell… the humans came to the council for help and we refused.  The Romans conquered Britain because we refused to get involved.'_

"Is there something you wish to say, Rector Lamia?" Fleur asked curiously.

Harry glanced over at the human.  The man was obviously desperate.  The Celts were loosing to the Romans.  _'It is not my place to change history,'_ he told himself.  "I do not need to hear any further.  The vampires will not interfere with the Romans' conquest."

Illiona stared at him curiously, then nodded.  "The elves will not interfere either," she said.

Fleur glanced between the two of them.  "The veelas will not interfere," she said.

Richard looked at them, confused.  He sighed.  "I've been ordered to follow the suggestion of the Rector Lamia.  The wizards will not interfere."

The human turned desperate eyes on the werewolf.  

"The werewolves do not interfere in the affairs of their food."

Harry spared one more look for the crushed human and turned.  He left the clearing and didn't look back.  History was still on track.  A few months later, the Romans were in control of the British Isles.

***

{199 years later – 242 AD}

Once more his polearm was covered in the blood of werewolves.  This was the third battle he had led the vampires in against the werewolves.  And hopefully, it would be the last.  "They're fleeing!" the cry went up.

"Follow them!" Harry yelled, both aloud and mentally.  For the first time, the vampires gave chase.  

The vampires chased down the fleeing werewolves, killing all they could catch.  They followed them all the way to their Den and invaded, killing all inside.  They were sure to kill every royal werewolf.  When the last royal wolf was dead, the werewolves still alive began screaming.  Harry ordered the vampires to pull out; they had accomplished their task.  They didn't need to kill the entire race.  

With the death of the royal werewolves, the werewolves could no longer control their transformation.  All who were in their wolf form when it happened were destined to stay as a wolf except for the night of the full moon, when they would transform into a human.  Their wolfish instincts would rule their lives.  Those who were in their human form when it happened were destined to stay as a human except for the night of the full moon, when they would transform into a wolf.  Their wolfish instincts would rule them during the nights of the full moon.  Both types would have tremendously painful transformations, instead of the painless transformations they had before.

Harry had just sentenced Remus Lupin to a life of hardship that would make him an outsider in the wizarding world.  Someone who couldn't be trusted because they couldn't control themselves.

***

{202 years later – 414 AD}

Harry stood leaning against a tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.  He watched as one of the last Roman legions began to leave Britain.  

"Do you regret your decision?"

"It was never my decision."

"Almost 400 years of tyranny and oppression.  It could have been avoided if the council had interfered."

Harry turned and glared at Illiona.  "If you wanted to interfere, you should have done it."  He turned back to the legion.

She smiled sadly.  "Harry, you know as well as I do that your decisions run that council.  The elves follow your decisions because we know that you follow the best path.  The veelas follow you because Fleur respects you, and the wizards are told to follow your will because they believe you are the wisest of us.  And the werewolves are no longer apart of the council."

"That's my fault too."

"It was necessary for the best possible future."

"Is my future the best one possible?" Harry demanded.  "Why shouldn't I change things?  Make them for the better!"

"Because you know that all you will do is create a world that is worse than the one you come from.  The evils coming are something that you can handle.  If you change things, what guarantee do we have that the evils will be vanquished?"

"Go away, Illiona.  I don't want to debate with you now." He turned his back towards her again, watching the Romans once more.

"I have faith in you, Harry," she said softly and left him to his thoughts. 

***

{53 years later – 467 AD}

"There is a wizard of great strength interfering in one of the human kingdoms in the north," Illiona said.

"Well, do you want to call the council together and forbid him from interfering?" Harry asked, without looking up from his reports.

"I'm hesitating because of his name."

Harry set the reports down on his desk and turned to look at Illiona.  "Oh?"

"His name is Merlin."

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock.  "No!  Let him do what he wants!"

Illiona laughed.  "That's what I thought you'd say.  You do realize that you use his name as an expletive on occasion.  I figured he might be of some importance."

"He is very important.  Don't interfere with him at all.  He will take care of himself."

"Should we do anything to protect him?"

"No.  He's going to sow the seeds for his own destruction."

"Are you going to try and meet him?"

"No.  I don't want to do anything that might change what should be.  I'm going to keep the vampires away from him, and I don't want the elves to have anything to do with him either."

"Then we won't.  We'll allow this Merlin free reign."

"Thanks."

Illiona chuckled.  "You should have seen your face.  He must have a great impact upon your world."

"He does," Harry replied.  "That he does."

***

{256 years later – 723 AD}

"Once more the humans have called upon us.  They ask that we prevent the raiders from attacking," the wizard representative informed them.

"The vampires will not interfere.  The Vikings will not be stopped by us."

"The elves will not interfere."

"The veelas will not interfere."

"The wizards will follow the will of the council.  We will not interfere."

Harry left the meeting, shaking his head slightly.  The humans continued to ask for help, and he continually had to deny it.  The Viking raids would continue until after 1000AD.  He sighed.  He wished the humans would forget about them sooner.  He was doing his best to keep the vampires hidden from them.  He wanted the humans to stop asking for help.  He was tired of denying it.

***

{148 years later – 871 AD}

"Well, the humans have finally done it."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Alfred the Great has been declared the first king of all of England," Lily replied.

"Oh.  So?  Did you honestly think they wouldn't manage it eventually?"

"No, I knew they'd manage it.  I just thought you'd like to know for your records."

"Oh.  Thanks."

"Welcome, Dad."

***

{129 years later – 1000 AD}

Harry sighed and leaned back.  He enjoyed going out and mingling among the humans, especially in the taverns, which is where he was this night.  He was nursing his third tankard of ale when a brawl began.  He looked at the two who started the fight and was shocked to recognize one of them.

"In Merlin's name," he breathed.

A young Salazar Slytherin was brawling in a Muggle tavern, drunk as can be.

***

TBC…

Well… that's chapter four.  I'm not sure I'm happy with it because of how rushed each event has to be.  This chapter contains the events of over a thousand years.  I hope though that this chapter allows you all to see how little Lily is going to impact the fic.  Remember, there will not be any Mary Sues if I have anything to say about it!

So what did you all think of Harry's brief memory of Severus?  All he can remember is that he's got greasy hair, yellow teeth, and is a potions maker.  *snickering*  just wait till you see him again, Harry!

I've finished the pictures of Olivia and Lily as well as a small map of the top most floor of the underground coven.  They are posted at my yahoo!group in the Files section in Blood's folder along with the picture of Harry's polearm for those of you who haven't seen it yet.  My yahoo!group:

groups.yahoo.com/group/HuntressSmiles/

In chapter five we get to see the birth of Hogwarts as well as the interaction of the founders and some hidden secrets.  We'll also see the motivation behind the Chamber of Secrets and the true opinions of Salazar Slytherin.  We'll also see the real reason why Gryffindor and Slytherin are enemies. 

I nearly forgot to do this… out of those that guessed the new race, only Bryt got it right.  veelas was the correct answer.  Bryt, you have won a lifetime supply of virtual chocolate frogs.  Happy eating!

As always, please feel free to ask me questions.  If you're having trouble understanding something, then please let me know.  Unfortunately, questions are more likely to be answered if you ask them at my group than if you ask me in an e-mail.  I have the very bad habit of forgetting to respond back to e-mails.  If you are one of those people who sent me an e-mail and didn't get a response back, I'm sooooo sorry.  If you did get a response back… you lucky dogs!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or sent me an e-mail.  All encouragement is appreciated.

~Artemis Luna Diana~


	6. Chapter Five: Tainted Blood

**Title:** Blood

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadiana@yahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.  

**Summary:  **Thrust into the distant past and turned into a vampire against his will, Harry struggles to understand what he has become and tries to fill his one desire: to get home.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to: snapeysnapesnape for the excellent beta.**

Chapter Five: Tainted Blood

Harry watched, partly astonished and partly amused, as one of the more infamous wizards in history beat his victim into a bloody pulp and then stumbled from the tavern.  Harry got up and followed.  He concealed a smile as Slytherin staggered to a horse trough and submersed his head into the water.  

Slytherin soon came up for air, shoving his hair out of his face.  Harry cleared his throat, and Slytherin turned, seeing him for the first time.

Harry studied the "fearsome" Salazar Slytherin with an amused smile threatening to break free.  His black hair was wet from his dunking and plastered to his head.  It appeared as though when dry, the hair stopped just beyond his cheekbones.  A cut above his right eye was bleeding, one of his souvenirs from the brawl.  More blood trickled down his chin from a split lip.

"What do you want, kid?" Slytherin snarled.  "I'm not too drunk to grind you into dust."

"I was just curious as to why the 'Great' Salazar Slytherin was using his fists instead of his wand?"

Slytherin paled, and his skin seemed to take on a greenish tinge.  "Go away, boy.  Leave me in peace."  He turned away from Harry and stumbled down the lane, heading out of town.

Harry frowned.  That was not what he had been expecting.  Using his familiar's magic, he cast an invisibility spell and a silencing spell on himself and followed after the future founder of Hogwarts.

Slytherin fell into a drunker slumber under a tree a few meters beyond the edge of town.  Harry stared at the still form pensively with his hands fisted in his pockets.  He stood watching the sleeping man for nearly an hour before finally coming to a decision.  He reached forward and touched Slytherin's chest.  A soft pop sounded where the two men had been.

***

Harry heard a groan sound from the receiving room and left his office.  He entered the room and found Slytherin trying to sit up from where Harry had laid him on the chaise lounge.  Harry picked up a flask from one of the tables and walked over to the hung-over wizard. 

"Drink this."

Slytherin stared at the flask for a moment before groggily accepting it and downing the contents.  Harry frowned.  He had expected much more of a battle to get Slytherin to drink the remedy.

"Where am I?" Slytherin asked as his head began to clear.  He took a long look at Harry before recognizing him.  "You're that boy from last night!"  He stumbled to his feet.  "You tell Rowena to stop sending people after me!  I'm never going back!  I've given up magic!  All of you leave me alone!"  He pushed past Harry and left the room.

Harry rubbed his temples.  "This.  Is.  Not.  Happening.  This.  Is.  A.  Dream."  He turned around and looked out into the corridor where Slytherin had gone.  "Shit."  He ran after the idiot wizard.  _'Everyone, we have a wizard running around the lower levels of the coven.  If you see him, let me know, but under no circumstances are you to injure or kill him.'_

Harry rolled his eyes as he felt the amusement of his people touch his mind.  He felt one of his younger charges brush his mind and accepted the vampire's thoughts.  

_'Can we scare him a bit?'_

_'No, he is to remain safe in every sense,'_ Harry replied, his lips twitching in amusement.

'Rats….'

Harry closed the connection and felt another touch.  _'Yes?'_

_'He's wandered into the cavern, but hasn't crossed to the Isle of the Dead.'_

_'I'm on my way.'_

Harry turned around and headed back down into the coven.  Slytherin truly was young; you'd think the man would have the sense to head up to the surface and not go farther down in the ground.

Harry entered the cavern and found Slytherin staring out at the Isle of the Dead from the shore near the crystal bridge.  He walked over to him, stopping just before reaching him.  Slytherin turned and saw him.

"What is this place?" he asked in a hushed whisper, as if speaking any louder would damage it beyond repair.

"That is the Isle of the Dead," Harry replied.  His voice was soft, but he was not whispering.  

"Where am I?"  Slytherin was no longer whispering, but his voice was still somewhat muted.  He had turned back towards the island.  "Am I dead?"

"You are in the Coven of the Vampires, and no, you are not dead."

Slytherin froze and turned around.  "You are a vampire?"

"Yes."

"Did you bring me here to drink my blood?  To kill me?  Did Aberon hire you to do it?" Slytherin demanded.

"I am not a mercenary; I do not kill for hire.  And no, I did not bring you here to feed off of you or to have any other vampire feed off of you.  You are here because you were so drunk you fell asleep on the edge of a town where you beat up one of its citizens.  If any of the townspeople had found you, they'd have killed you."

"What do you care if I live or die?" Slytherin sneered.

"Let's just say I have a vested interest in keeping you alive for at least a few more decades."

"Why?" Slytherin demanded.

"It's not your concern at this moment.  Why do you want to die, and why have you given up your magic?"  Harry asked, effectively changing the subject.

Slytherin paled and then grew angry.  "Why do you ask me that!  If you know who I am, then you already know what happened to me!  Why do you insist upon making me tell you when you already know!"

"Just because I know who you are, and that I want to keep you alive, doesn't mean that I know anything else about you.  So I'd like it if you could tell me what happened to you.  I know you're a powerful wizard, one who could have a great future in magic.  Why have you given it up?  As a fellow wizard, it is my right to know why our community must suffer the loss of such a wizard!"

"Your right?!" Slytherin sputtered.  "You have a right to know my pain?!  My suffering?!  You have no such right!"

"You will tell me what happened, Salazar Slytherin, or by Merlin you will regret the day you crossed my path," Harry replied coldly and firmly.

Slytherin blanched and seemed to collapse in on himself.  "My pain is my own," he pleaded softly.

Harry sighed inaudibly.  "Come with me," he said and walked to the crystal bridge.  He stopped and looked back at Slytherin.  He hadn't moved.  "Come on, Slytherin.  The bridge will not collapse as you cross, and you will not die by stepping on the island."

"How do you know?" Slytherin asked, his emotions forgotten in his sudden fear.

"This bridge has been here for almost a thousand years."

"All the more reason not to walk on it."

"And, I know you won't die when you step on the island because I created it, as well as the bridge.  Come on."  Harry stepped on to the bridge and began walking across.  He heard Slytherin walk to the bridge and then pause.  "Now, Slytherin."  Harry heard him take his first hesitant steps across, before slowly speeding up.  He caught up with Harry by the time he reached the opposite shore.  "Welcome to the Isle of the Dead, Salazar Slytherin."

The Isle of the Dead had changed greatly since Harry had first created it.  Its original intention was to be the final resting-place for the leaders of the coven.  However, Harry's long rule had changed that.  No one had expected for Harry to live as long as he had, or any of the other vampires to live as long as they had.  Now the island also housed the remains of the fallen heroes of the coven.  It was and still is considered a great honor to lie beside the leaders of the vampires after death has come.  A vampire goes into battle hoping that if they should die, that they will have earned the right to rest beside Princess Olivia, Rector Lamia Alcoyne, Rector Lamia Eric, and the shrine of Rector Lamia Quentin.

"It's a tomb… you bury your dead?" Slytherin asked astonished.

"We bury and burn our dead.  The more important or significant your accomplishment, the more likely you are to be buried.  If you are an… I hate to use the word average, but… well, I guess normal? vampire, you are burned.  Only our leaders and our heroes are buried."  Harry put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.  "Over a thousand years worth of history is on this island.  Come on, I have some things to show you."

Slytherin followed Harry over to a large shrine.  An image of a man wielding a large battle axe was carved into a stone that stood as tall as two men.  On either side of the image were torches.  The flickering flames caused light to dance over the image in such a way so the man appeared to be moving.  Below the image, in three languages, was the name 'Rector Lamia Quentin.'  Below the name were the dates: 523 B.C. – 312 B.C.

"This is a shrine to my Sire, the vampire that turned me," Harry said softly.

"He died in 312 B.C.?" Slytherin asked astonished.  "That means that you would have to be—"

"I'm 1,381," Harry interrupted.  He then gave a wry smile.  "I've just had a birthday."

"Are all vampires as old as you?"

"No, though there are quite a few.  High Priestess Rachael is the oldest vampire in the coven.  She's 1,424, and it goes down from there.  We had a baby born yesterday, and we're expecting two more by the end of the month."

"Baby?  You turn babies?" Slytherin asked horrified.

"Vampire-born not turned.  A seventeen-year-old human was turned two weeks ago.  He's the youngest turned vampire we have at the moment."

"Oh."  Slytherin was silent a moment.  "Why are you showing me this?"

"You'll understand eventually.  For now, let me continue.  As I said, Quentin was my Sire.  He was killed in a great battle with the werewolves."

"So vampires and werewolves are natural enemies."

"Not natural enemies.  There was a time in which vampires and werewolves were friends, however, that is a story for another time.  When Quentin was killed, Rector Lamia Michael came into power.  He is not remembered on this island because of how he ruled."

"He was that bad at it?"

"He was evil."

"Oh."

"After Michael was killed in a vampire uprising, Rector Lamia Eric came into power.  His tomb is this way."  Harry led Slytherin to the two coffins where Eric and Alcoyne lay.

"Eric mated to Alcoyne, but was not faithful to her, so she killed him and the girl he slept with."

"Ouch."

"Alcoyne then became the Rector Lamia.  However, it was not a task that she wanted.  She gave up her position and her life to the next Rector Lamia.  She is buried beside the man she killed," he said indicating the coffin beside Eric's.

"I'm sure she'd be happy about that."

"She actually might be.  She did love Eric."

"A true tale of tragic love?"

"Exactly."

"So who was the next Rector Lamia; you didn't say."

"This way," Harry said and led him to Olivia's coffin.  "Rector Lamia Harry came into power after Alcoyne gave it up.  Like all the Rector Lamias before him, he was required to mate and produce an heir.  He chose a close friend."  Harry gestured to the coffin.  "Princess Olivia."  Harry fell silent and his hands fisted in his pockets.  "She had not even fully grown when he chose her."  

Harry turned and looked at Slytherin.  "What you have to understand first is that Olivia was a human-turned-vampire and her mate was a wizard-turned-vampire.  The magic that is required to produce a vampire child, plus the magic that was contained in her mate combined to create a child that was a very powerful witch.  The child's magic however was too much for Olivia's body to handle and rather than go insane from it, Olivia chose to end her own life after the baby was born."

"What did the Rector Lamia do?"

"What did he do?  He did the worst thing of all."

"What was that?"

"He lived."

Slytherin stared at Harry.  "You are Rector Lamia Harry."  It was not a question.

"Yes."  Harry took a step forward towards Slytherin.  "What I am trying to show you is that I have also faced great personal tragedy, and I've only shown you a little bit of it.  I can understand that you are in pain.  However, you have responsibilities, just as I have responsibilities.  I cannot give into my pain and my guilt because so many are depending upon me.  More than you could possibly know," he said, thinking of that far off future where Voldemort waited for him.  "Whether you know it or not, there are people depending upon you, and no matter how bad what happened to you was; you still must carry on."

"I was creating a potion," Slytherin said after a moment.  "It was going to be a great potion.  One that could re-grow bones."  Slytherin gave Harry a heartbreaking smile.  "It was just for a moment… I only left it… for a moment…" Slytherin fell silent.  "It exploded, violently.  It destroyed my entire home.  I barely got out, and once I did, I passed out.  The children were with their mentors, but… my wife… she…didn't make it.  They said she entered my lab just as it exploded.  There was no chance."

"Merlin," Harry cursed softly.  "Now, I begin to understand."

***

Harry sat in his office, his elbows resting on his desk, staring down at his hands, his fingers forming a steeple.  Slytherin was sleeping in Harry's room, and Harry was worrying.  What was the correct action to take?  Somehow Slytherin was going to come to grips with his wife's death, but was Harry a part of that?  If he erased Slytherin's memory and sent him to Rowena Ravenclaw, would the problem correct itself?  As much as the idea appealed to him, he knew it wouldn't work.  So, two options remained: either he was the reason that Slytherin eventually helped found Hogwarts, or Slytherin recovered on his own.

Harry propped his chin up on his left hand, and the fingers of his right hand began to tap on his desk.  It really made him nervous that Slytherin had decided to give up his magic.  He looked up at a light tapping sound on the wall.

"Rachael."

"Harry."

"What's going on?"

"I came to ask you.  You're leaking worry all over the place."

Harry sighed.  "Sorry."

"What's wrong?"

Harry was silent a moment, carefully thinking out his words.  "I am presented with two choices.  One choice could result in some bad things happening, but is a good choice in the long run.  The second choice could result in some very important things not happening, but it's unlikely that anything bad will happen in the near future.  However, if the second result occurs, in the long run, some very bad things could happen."

Rachael stared at him confused.  "That seems like a very obvious choice…."

"Ah, but here comes the good part.  I don't know which choice will end in which result."

"Okay, I'm getting a headache."  She rubbed her temples and sat down at the table.  "I'm assuming that you can't tell me any more than you have, correct?"

"Correct."

"Well, it seems that your only option is to choose the one that you believe will give the result you want.  In this situation all you have is your instincts."

"It does appear that way."

"This is about that wizard isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What are you going to do with him?  He is correct when he says that Rowena Ravenclaw is searching for him."

Harry smiled.  "You went looking for information after I told you who he was."

Rachael nodded primly.  "Well, I couldn't have an unknown wizard running around the coven could I?  What if he'd interfered in the children's lessons?"

Harry laughed softly.  "Thank you, Rachael."

Her expression softened.  "Anything for you, Harry."

"I'm going to take him to Shingu.  Ravenclaw will be hard pressed to find him there."

"And if she does find him there?  The wizards will learn of the second coven's existence."

"It was only a matter of time before they did learn of it.  I'm not worried about that.  I would be concerned only if word of the other covens spread."

"Do you trust this wizard not to reveal our secrets?"

Harry shook his head slightly.  "I honestly don't know.  He's nothing like what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"For him to be similar to Rector Lamia Michael."

Rachael frowned.  "And yet you brought him here anyway?"

"Like I said, he's not what I expected."  Harry snorted.  "Sometimes, he'll say or do something that reminds me of Quentin…."

"If he is like Rector Lamia Quentin, then he is a good man."

"Yes, and I suppose that is what I am finding the hardest to come to grips with.  Salazar Slytherin is a good man?"

They were silent a moment before Rachael spoke again.  "So where is your better half?  I noticed she's not wrapped around your waist as usual."

"Yui is guarding the bedroom."  Harry laughed.  "Though I'm not sure if she wants to keep him from getting out or to keep the children from getting in."

Rachael laughed.  "She is a suspicious little thing, isn't she?"

"Little?  She'll have words with you for that!"

***

"Seven hundred and fifty some odd years ago, the vampires and the werewolves had their last great battle.  It ended in victory for the vampires, as it always did.  However, that time, it was decided to do everything possible to end the war.  We, the vampires, hunted down every royal werewolf and killed them.  Without the royals, the werewolves have no control over themselves.  With the collapse of the werewolves' society, we were left in peace.  Without battle to thin our numbers, our population grew.  It became necessary to form a second coven."

"That's where you are going to take me, isn't it?  Everyone thinks there is only one coven, but there are two."  Slytherin hurried after Harry.  The vampire was leading them deeper into the forest.

"Let me finish.  This all happened about 400 years ago, and at the same time we were looking for a place to begin a new coven, there was a minor war between some of the wizarding families."

"You're talking about the war between the McGonagalls and the Gryffindors."

"Exactly.  Several families were caught in the middle of the feud: the MacDougals, the Lunens, and the McDowells. They came to us for help, and we realized that this could be very beneficial.  We moved those who wanted to leave to Japan, where we already had very friendly relations with the few wizards that lived there.  We created a small town that consisted of an area above ground and one below."

"Wizards and vampires living together?"

"Not just wizards and vampires.  There are elves that live there, as well as a few veela.  They have had 400 years to learn to live together and to combine their strengths.  You will not find many forces greater than they."

"If wizards are there, how can I possibly go there and not be found?"

"Those wizards have different loyalties, Slytherin.  They will keep you secret.  Besides, not many even know of the town's existence."

"Wait a minute, what's this place called anyway?"

"Shingu,"  Harry paused.  "And Slytherin, I never said there were only two covens."

"Just how many are there?"

Harry smiled slyly.  "Enough for our purposes."  He glanced around.  "We're here."

"Where?"

Harry smiled.  "You're in the elves' land, Salazar Slytherin."

"Hello, Harry."

"Illiona."

Illiona kissed Harry's cheeks and then fixed her gaze on Slytherin.  "Walking with wizards again, Harry?" she asked, amused.

"Not just any wizard, Illiona, but Salazar Slytherin," Harry replied smirking.  He turned to Slytherin.  "Slytherin, meet Princess Illiona daughter of Aliras, Lord of the Elves.  Illiona meet Salazar Slytherin."

"An honor to meet you," Slytherin said in awe.

"A pleasure," Illiona replied.  "You've come to use the portal to Shingu?"

"Yes.  I'm taking Slytherin there."  Harry switched to elvish.  _"I'm hoping that he will recover some of his spirit there.  He has sworn off magic."_

Illiona frowned.  _"He is important to your future, Harry.  I understand your concern.  I wish you luck."  She turned to Slytherin and smiled.  "Come, the portal is this way."_

***

The town was built around the Kumano Hayatama Shrine, for which the town was named, Shingu meaning "new shrine."  The Kumano faith was popular with the Japanese wizards that lived in the town, and the Kumano Hayatama Shrine was one of the three centers of the Kumano faith.  Sometimes humans came on pilgrimages to the shrine; the citizens of the town let them come and go in peace.  Very rarely, some of the humans wanted to stay.  If it was possible to turn them, they were.  If it was not possible to turn them, spells were cast to make them leave.  To the humans, Shingu was a normal town, but hidden behind the veil was a world they could barely imagine.

"It looks so normal…." Slytherin murmured.

Harry smiled and drew his wand.  "Yes, it looks normal at the moment."  

Slytherin stared as Harry spoke words in a language unfamiliar to him.  There was a flash of light, and he was forced to cover his eyes.  When he finally dropped his hands, he found himself speechless.

"The crystal spires are a veela creation," Harry said glancing around with a proud smile.  "The main library is an elvish contribution.  The vampires created the underground area as well as the training centers above ground.  The wizards created everything else."

"It really is the home of many species."

"Yes, and because of that, it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen."  He gave a wry smile.  "And I've been around long enough to see many beautiful things."

***

{1 year later – 1001 AD}

Harry stepped through the portal to Shingu and began walking towards the town, its crystal spires beckoning him forward.  He was greeted with enthusiastic yells and hugs from his people and welcoming smiles from the rest of the populace; it had been nearly three months since he had last been to the town.  After promising to speak to them later, he broke away in search of his ward: Salazar Slytherin.

Harry found him in one of the training centers practicing his swordsmanship.  Slytherin had improved greatly since he had come to Shingu, in more ways than one.  Only a few weeks before, Harry had been given word that Slytherin had resumed using his magic, though not to the extent he had before.  The death of his wife had made him extremely cautious.  He actively tried to improve his physical strength and defense, and although he was not the greatest swordsman to ever live, he was certainly above average with the blade.  

Harry watched until Slytherin's sparring match was finished, then stepped forward allowing Slytherin and the elf training him to realize he was present.  Slytherin grinned upon spotting him.

"Harry!  You're back!"

Harry smiled slightly.  He had chosen to remain in Shingu for the first five months that Slytherin had been in the town.  Harry had worked with him, trained with him, and talked with him, sharing parts of his past that few knew about.  They had become cautious friends.  Harry had left, however, his responsibilities calling him back to England and then to Egypt before he was able to return to Shingu.  He hadn't been able to stay long before he was called away again, to Italy: the home of the newest coven.  He spent three months in Italy trying to iron out the problems associated with creating a new coven.  Truly, he should still be there, but he had received word from Rachael that the search for Slytherin had intensified.  Ravenclaw had plans for making a school and was determined her wayward friend would assist.  Harry now had the task of convincing Slytherin to found Hogwarts.

"Salazar, your skill has improved since I last saw you.  Congratulations."

"Thank you, I've been working hard at it."

"I can tell."  Harry paused before beckoning Slytherin to him.  "Walk with me; there is something we must discuss."

Slytherin put away his blade, thanked his instructor and joined Harry.  Harry nodded in acknowledgement to the elf, who nodded back.  Harry and Slytherin retreated to one of the smaller rooms in the training center to talk in private.

"Is something wrong?" Slytherin asked quietly after Harry had closed the door behind them.

"Perhaps."

Slytherin sat down and stared worriedly at Harry.  "Perhaps?"

"Ravenclaw has intensified her search for you."

"Can she find me?"

"No, I don't believe so."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's her reason for searching for you."

"Are my children alright?" he asked frightened.

"Yes.  They're with their mentors.  They're fine."

Slytherin breathed a sigh of relief.  "Then why is she trying so hard to find me?"

"She needs your help."

"Rowena Ravenclaw needs _my_ help?" Slytherin asked astonished.

"Don't sound so surprised, Salazar.  You are England's greatest Potions Master and you have a formidable knowledge of ancient magic that is well known."

"I only know a small amount," he protested.

"It is more than most wizards, and you have increased the knowledge during your stay here.  You are a valuable asset to the wizarding world."

Slytherin was silent a moment.  "So what does she need my help with?"

"She wants to create a magic school."

Slytherin thought for a moment.  "There are a great deal of advantages to passing on knowledge to the younger generations that way, instead of the mentor-protégé system."  He paused.  "What does she need me for?"

"She wants you to assist in the school's creation as well as to teach there once the school has been built."

"Me?  A teacher?  She's lost her mind!"

Harry chuckled.  "You don't give yourself enough credit Salazar."  Harry stood.  "Come, I've given you much to think about, and there are things that must be done before the day is over."

***

Harry spent the next few hours discussing the status of the town and the concerns of the populace with Shingu's council.  As it had for the past two-hundred years, the town was running smoothly.  It had been a long time since there had been a conflict among the citizens.  After the meetings were over, Harry went to the house the citizens kept for him.  Slytherin was waiting for him there.

"Harry," he said once the vampire had seated himself.  "I don't know if I'm ready to go back."

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked.  "You have recovered much of your spirit since you came here.  It seems as though you've begun the healing process.  Is there something you haven't told me?"

"No, it's just…."

They sat in silence as Slytherin tried to formulate his thoughts.  "I think I understand," Harry said after awhile.  "You are afraid of how you might react, seeing the people that you knew before the accident, seeing things that remind you of your wife, seeing your children."

"I abandoned them."

"Yes, I suppose you did.  However, you did not leave them to fend for themselves.  You did make sure that they were cared for."

"I still left them."

"Yes.  That day they lost their mother and their father."  Harry paused before continuing.  "They can get their father back, though.  If you return, they will have their father back."

"It can't be like it was."

"No.  They have lost their trust in you.  You will have to earn it back."

"I don't think there is anything I could do to make up for leaving them."

"Perhaps not, however, it is their choice to forgive you; if you allow them to make it."

Slytherin remained silent.  Harry stood and placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.  "Get some sleep, Salazar.  Things should look better in the morning."

Slytherin gave a slight smile.  "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Slytherin did not bring up Ravenclaw or her school until two days later.  He had decided to return to the wizarding world; it was time to face his demons.

"I could use some company," Slytherin said.

"I will go with you," Harry replied.

***

"Rowena, we are wasting time.  Your friend has disappeared.  Choose someone else to be the fourth."

The dark-haired woman glared at the red-headed man.  "Godric," she snapped.  "When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you."

"Will you both stop your bickering," their companion broke in.  She was a short woman with graying blond hair.

"Helga, I don't know how I let you convince me that he was worthy of this task," Rowena Ravenclaw said lowly.  "But if he challenges me one more time, I guarantee he will not live to see the next day."  She pushed past her friend, ignoring the man she had fought with.

"Godric, will you please stop provoking her?" Helga Hufflepuff pleaded.  "She chose Slytherin first, and it took a lot of convincing as well as a little begging to persuade her to choose you as her fourth.  Please, I really want you to be a part of this."

"We are wasting time," Godric Gryffindor snapped.

"We aren't on a schedule, Godric.  Your impatience could ruin this project."

"Just because her little friend has gone missing, we have to wait around, kicking our heels.  I have better things to do with my time."  Godric stomped off in the opposite direction of Ravenclaw.

Hufflepuff sat down on the ground.  They had been working on clearing the land for the school when Gryffindor had begun his fight with Ravenclaw.  Their fights were beginning to get out of hand.  If Slytherin wasn't found soon, the school was going to die an early death.

***

Harry and Slytherin watched from the shadows as the three founders argued.  "It seems that not all is well with your co-founders, Salazar.  I do not have to be a seer to know that there is trouble ahead."

"I'm already beginning to regret my decision," Slytherin mumbled.

Harry chuckled.  "Well, how do you want to do this?"

"I've no idea.  I'm open to suggestions."

"Do it while they're all together.  It will be easier to cope with Rowena's reactions if there are others about."

"Then that means we wait."

"The question is, how long will it take before they get over their snit?"

Slytherin snorted, trying not to laugh.

"Come on, we need to go where we can see their camp," Harry said, leading the way.

***

It was three hours later before the two fuming founders returned to camp.  Hufflepuff had two house-elves busy making their supper.  The tension between the three was glaringly obvious.  

"I think now would be a good time to approach them," Harry said.  "If we wait any longer, they'll begin fighting again."

"Right," Slytherin said.  He took a deep breath and held it.  He released it on a heavy sigh.  "Let's go."

***

Ravenclaw glared at her stew.  Her temper was beginning to flare again, just from being in Gryffindor's presence.

"I hear you've been searching for me, Rowena Ravenclaw."

Ravenclaw's spoon dropped into her bowl at the sound of the familiar voice.  She looked up, a happy smile lighting her face.  "Salazar!"  She jumped up and ran to embrace him.  "Oh, my friend, I've been looking for you everywhere!  Where have you been?"

"With friends," he replied enigmatically.  

Ravenclaw noticed the boy.  "You've taken an apprentice?" she asked astonished.

Slytherin laughed and Harry gave him an amused smile.  "No, I've taken on a Master."

"What?" Ravenclaw asked confused.

"Rowena Ravenclaw, meet Rector Lamia Harry."

"A vampire!" Hufflepuff yelped.

Ravenclaw turned, remembering her companions for the first time since seeing Slytherin.  She turned back to Slytherin and stepped away from him slightly.  "Have you been turned?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

Slytherin frowned slightly.  "No, I have not."  He glanced at Harry, who seemed even more amused at the turn of events.

"Salazar," he said, his voice thick with suppressed laughter.  "You forget your own reaction to me.  Wizards tell many tales of wicked vampires; you should not forget such things.  Vampires are not welcome in most circles."  Harry turned to Ravenclaw.  "Be grateful young witch that I do not consider you a threat to my people.  You did not think to ask if the land you are clearing belonged to anyone.  Your school will sit on vampire and elvish lands."

Ravenclaw looked horrified, as did her two companions.

"Your school shall have our protection," Harry continued.  He turned to Slytherin.  "I have delivered you into Ravenclaw's hands, my friend, and now I must go."

"No rest for the wicked?" Slytherin teased.

Harry smiled.  "You know how to find me." He nodded to the other founders and turned to leave.

"Will you be stopping by anytime?" Slytherin called out.

Harry stopped and turned back.  "If you wish it."

"I do."

"Then I look forward to seeing the progress of the school, Salazar."

***

{2 years later – 1003 AD}

Harry walked up to the gates of the school and remembered his younger days.  The castle was just how he remembered it.  He had kept his word and stopped by the school occasionally during the building process, but he gave no comments on design nor did he go up to the actual site.  Slytherin had been confused by his reluctance to see the school, yet he still asked him to come today, and Harry had accepted.  Today, the final spells would be set into place and the school would finally be complete.  

"Is it how you remember it?"

Harry turned.  "Illiona… what are you doing here?"

"The final spells will be cast today.  I summoned Fleur as well.  We will all assist in the protection of the school, and the spells will hold through all the trials that are yet to come."  She gave a challenging smile.  "I hope you are prepared."

Harry smirked.  "I'm ready for whatever is to come."

"When are you not, Harry?"

Harry smiled at the blue-headed veela queen.  "Your Majesty," he gave a slightly mocking bow.  "A pleasure to see you again."

Fleur returned his bow with a curtsy in the same attitude as his bow.  "Rector Lamia, you're a hard man to find this century."

Harry laughed and embraced his veela friend.  "I've missed seeing your captivating face these past few decades."

"Then perhaps you should come and visit your friends once and awhile, instead of waiting for council meetings," her voice while teasing, held a bit of reproach.

Harry turned serious.  "There are things beginning that worry me and too many choices to make without any assurances that they are right."

Fleur frowned.  "When you worry, Harry, I worry.  I only hope that we worry for no reason."

"I'm afraid that is an impossible hope, Fleur," Illiona said.  "The Waters of Raveya show a war is coming, and we will all be caught up in it.  After the spells are set, we should go to Raveya to discuss a plan of action.  I'm not sure how much time we will have."

"This school will be a focal point in the war?" Fleur asked gesturing towards Hogwarts.

"Yes.  Which is why it is important that we all participate in creating the final spells," Illiona replied.

"Then we should head on up before they begin without us," Harry said quietly.  "There are many spells to cast."

***

The four founders were gathered in the Great Hall.  They stood in a circle, ready to begin casting.  Fleur, Illiona, and Harry entered the hall unnoticed.  "They haven't begun yet," Fleur said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Stop!" Harry commanded.

The four founders turned at the sudden shout.  "What the hell is going on," Gryffindor demanded.

"Harry, you came!" Slytherin replied, happy to see his friend.

"Rector Lamia," Ravenclaw acknowledged warmly.  She was not as close to him as Slytherin was – there simply hadn't been enough time or opportunities for that – but she did respect him and trusted that he was looking out for the school and Slytherin's best interests.  

"What are you doing here?" Hufflepuff cried, outraged.  "And how dare you invite him!" she snapped at Slytherin.  "This is a sacred day!  How dare you interfere in the final casting!"

"We are not here to interfere," Harry replied.  Hufflepuff could not get beyond her prejudice against vampires to hold a civil conversation with him, much less trust that he wasn't here to harm the future of the school.  "We are here to assist."

"Who are your friends?" Ravenclaw asked.

"Salazar, you remember Illiona?" Harry asked.

"Yes.  She is the elvish princess.  The only daughter of Aliras, Lord of the Elves," Slytherin replied.

Harry nodded.  "And this is Fleur, Queen of the Veela."

Fleur smirked at Harry.  "With our assistance, including the Rector Lamia, there is no force that could break through the wards set on the school."

"The school will have the most protection we can give," Illiona confirmed.

"There is much depending on this school," Harry added quietly.

Ravenclaw and Slytherin were both worried at the seriousness of their guests, while Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were infuriated that these other species would dare to intrude on a day of final casting.

Harry, Illiona, and Fleur joined the founders circle.  "It is unfortunate that there is not a royal werewolf to complete the circle," Illiona remarked.

Harry gave her a hard look, but Fleur spoke before he could respond.

"You're baiting him, Illiona," she said, her voice hard.  "Stop it."

Illiona turned to Harry, inclining her head slightly in apology.  "I apologize, Harry.  I wasn't thinking."

"Should I summon a fourth?" Harry asked, ignoring her apology.  Illiona had done that on purpose, the question was why.

"No.  This circle shall suffice."

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff turned angry eyes on their co-founders.  "We accept your assistance graciously," Ravenclaw said before either could protest.  "On this day of final casting, we shall act as one and our will shall form the heart of this place."

"Thank you for your welcoming," Illiona replied.  "Let us begin."

***

{2 years later – 1005 AD}

In the two years since the final casting at Hogwarts, Illiona, Fleur, and Harry had spent much time strategizing for the coming war.  Of the three of them, only Illiona had returned to Hogwarts since the final casting, and only to check on the status of the wards.  All three, however, were now traveling to Hogwarts.  It was time for a council meeting, and Hogwarts had been chosen as the meeting grounds.

It seemed as though it had become a Snape tradition to be chosen as the wizarding representative.  More often than not, a member of that family was sent to the council.  This time it was an older man named Tobias Snape.

The four spent three days discussing the troubles of the magical world, and on that last day, Illiona set forth a motion to begin the concealment of the magical world from the humans – or Muggles as the wizards referred to them.  Harry and Fleur both agreed immediately.  With three of the council for the action, Tobias Snape was forced to agree to the proposed restrictions.  Magic would eventually become myth and legend to the humans.

As they were leaving Hogwarts, Harry saw something that sent a chill down his spine.  He saw the seeds of the true dissension between Gryffindor and Slytherin planted.  On the top-most tower, he saw two figures locked in a heated embrace.  He felt a pain in his heart for his friend; it seemed Slytherin was doomed to have relationships which ended in disaster.  It felt cold to think it, but he hoped that at least it would last through the war.  If Slytherin and Gryffindor fall apart before the war ended, there would be many more lives lost.  

Harry sighed.  "I am sorry, my friend.  I can not save you from your fate."

***

{2 years later – 1007 AD}

"We know a Dark Lord is rising," Harry said, staring pensively at the table in front of him.  "However, we don't know who it is or his goals."

"Are we sure it's a he?" Slytherin asked.

"Yes."  Harry paused.  "The logical thing to do is to prepare for the worst."

"How would you suggest we do that?"

"All I can think of is to cast more spells.  It is imperative that should the school come under attack that the children are safe."

"Well what about building a hidden room in the school?" Slytherin suggested.  "If no one knows about it until the attack, then we could move the students there and hide them without anyone knowing their location."

Harry stared at Slytherin, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

"Sort of like a chamber of secrets," Slytherin continued, not noticing Harry's reaction.

"Yes," Harry said after a moment.  "That might be wise."  He hesitated.  "Salazar, you mustn't tell anyone we are doing this and the entrance must be well guarded and a password carefully chosen.  We can't allow an accidental discovery."

"So we'll use something in Parselmouth," Slytherin replied with a shrug.  "But, I think it would be alright to tell Godric, Rowena, and Helga what we're doing."

"No.  The less that know, the better."

Slytherin frowned but nodded.  He hesitated a moment before speaking again.  "You don't like Godric do you?"

Harry stared at Slytherin, trying to come up with the right words.  Finally he settled on the simplest ones.  "No.  I don't."

"Why not?  He's a wonderful man, Harry.  I'd really like it if you could be friends."

Harry sighed.  "That is not possible, Salazar.  He does not trust me, and I do not trust him.  I'm sorry."

"Harry…" Slytherin rested his head in his hands a moment then looked up at Harry.  "Harry, I think I'm falling in love with him.  It's been so long since I felt this way; I never thought I could again."

Harry could not meet his gaze.  At this moment, he could end Slytherin and Gryffindor's relationship with a few well-chosen words, or he could tell Slytherin that love conquers all, which he knew was a lie in this case.  "Salazar, I wish I could say I was happy for you.  I can't.  I can only wish you luck because I can only see this ending badly.  I pray I am wrong, for your sake."  

Harry stood.  He had remained neutral, neither supportive nor unsupportive.  "I will be here if you need me."  Harry started to leave the room, but paused in the doorway and looked back.  "Let me know when you're ready to begin creating the chamber."

***

{9 years later – 1016 AD}

The first major attack by the new Dark Lord left no doubt in anyone's mind that a serious problem had developed.  There were few places more important to wizards than Stonehenge and on midsummer night, the followers of the Dark Lord attacked those that had gathered to celebrate.  Over three hundred men, women, and children had come to watch the casting of some of the Great Spells.  The Dark Lord slaughtered them all.  No one survived the massacre.

The war had begun.

***

{8 years later – 1024 AD}

The warriors for the side of light yelled and screamed their agreement to Godric Gryffindor's speech.  The final battle was at hand.  They stood on the battlements and on the lawn of Hogwarts, waiting for Aberon's attack: his last desperate attempt to seize control of the wizarding world.  

Harry leaned up against the wall near the doors to the school.  Beside him stood Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Illiona, Rachael, and Lily.  They would be directing the forces on the ground while Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Skya, Jason, and Fleur would direct those on the battlements.

Harry straightened and looked out towards the lake.  "They're coming.  They've just apparated onto vampire lands.  The scouts have spotted them."

"How many?" Ravenclaw asked.

"Over three hundred… and more are still coming," Harry replied.

"How?  I thought we'd decimated his forces at the last encounter.  All reports said he was down to just under one hundred," Slytherin asked.

"He's recruited some werewolves," Harry said and a smile began to stretch across his face.  

"How lovely," Rachael agreed, her lips forming a similar smile.  

"I can barely remember the last time I killed a werewolf in battle," Lily added.  "I feel all tingly."

Harry laughed, as did Rachael.  Their friends however looked on with either expressions of resignation or shock.  The laughter died away as Harry gave another update.  "Four hundred and still counting."

"It can't only be werewolves that are filling his ranks," Illiona said.  "Where did he get his troops?"

Harry frowned.  "Some are humans.  He'll probably send them in as his first wave, trying to kill as many of us as he can before sending in his better troops."  Harry suddenly stiffened.  "They've portkeyed a giant in."

"What?!" The shouts came simultaneously from those around him.

"He was playing us," Harry realized.

"What do you mean?" Ravenclaw demanded.

"He made us think we had nearly defeated him when we did no such thing.  We were over-confident," Harry replied.

"But our spies…." Slytherin's voice trailed off.

"Are not our spies, but his."  Harry turned to Rachael.  "Find Nott and McAvery.  I want those traitors out of our ranks!"

"I'll go with you," Ravenclaw said, and the two women took off to find their betrayers.

"This will not be an easy battle," Harry said.  "Illiona, I want your group to concentrate on the giant.  Lily, you are responsible for the humans and the werewolves.  Salazar, our groups will handle the wizards.  Salazar and I will take Rowena's group, and Lily will take Rachael's.  Any questions?"  When no one said anything, Harry continued.  "Good.  Jason is keeping those above us informed of the situation.  They are ready to support us."

"Here they come!" the shout came from one of the wizards in Slytherin's group.

***

The battle was bloody and harsh.  In every other battle Harry had been in, magic hadn't been a factor.  In this battle, fought between two armies of wizards and their allies, magic was flying everywhere.  Shield spells were nearly useless.  With so much stray magic hitting them, the shields were collapsing under the strain.  The giant had crushed almost a fourth of their ground troops before being taken out by a combination of elvish and veela magic as well as a few carefully placed arrows.  

The humans had been sent in as shock troops and been slaughtered by the much more experienced vampires.  The werewolves were slightly harder to dispose of, but they had not been trained for battle as their ancestors had, and they also did not possess the ability to transform between wolf and man.  In that respect, Aberon had underestimated the abilities of the vampires.  

With his giant defeated and his physical troops destroyed, Aberon had only his wizards available to take the castle.  However, he had over two hundred of them and his spies had caused much damage before they were killed.  Rowena Ravenclaw was dead.

The battle lasted well into the night.  Aberon had made another mistake.  Vampires loved the night.  With a vampire assigned to each wizard, they were able to direct the spells to the correct targets.  The Dark Lord lost many troops before realizing that fighting in the dark against creatures of the night was unwise.  By then, though, it was too late. 

The troops on the battlements had exchanged places with those on the ground to give them a semi-break from the fighting.  Godric Gryffindor was the man who finally was able to corner Aberon and deal the death-giving blow.  Those around the scene heard him hiss, "That was for Salazar, you bastard."

Not many people realized that Slytherin and Aberon knew each other very well.  Aberon was the brother of Slytherin's wife.  After his sister's death at the hands of her husband, Aberon vowed revenge.  No talk of accidents could sway him.  He'd tried hiring mercenaries to kill his brother-in-law, but each had failed.  Finally he decided to conquer the wizarding world and kill those that protected Slytherin as well as the man himself.  A Dark Lord had been born from the death of a much-loved sister.

When the battle was over, and losses counted, it was horrifying to discover who had died and who had been injured.  The entire Snape family had been wiped out; only two children who had been too young to participate in the battle were still alive.  The Malfoy family had suffered heavy losses including their family's matriarch.  Rowena Ravenclaw and her husband had both fallen.  Rowena to the traitor Nott, and her husband had killed himself upon learning of her death.  Their only child was an orphan with no extended family to take care of her.  Helga Hufflepuff lost her husband during the giant's initial attack.

Illiona had been severely injured, and Skya had rushed her back to Raveya.  It had been a close call; they nearly lost her.  Rachael had been hit by the killing curse, but since she was already dead, it couldn't kill her.  However, it did cause a significant amount of pain, and she had been given sleeping potions and painkillers to try and ease her suffering until she recovered.  Lily had been held under the Cruciatus Cursefor nearly five minutes before someone killed the man who had been cursing her.  She was also drugged and asleep in the infirmary in the coven.  Slytherin had been near Harry when they both were hit with a blast of spell-fire.  The vampires had rushed them both off to the coven to be treated.  

***

It was nearly a month later before Harry awoke.  He had been severely injured, and it had taken quite awhile before the injuries were completely cured.  Beyond the fire injury, he had taken multiple curse spells, and a severe knife wound in the right shoulder just below his collarbone.  The blade was long enough that it had gone straight through his body and emerged on the other side.  

Despite the many battles he had been in before, Harry had never been injured bad enough that it left a scar that magic could not prevent.  There were identical scars on the front and back of his right shoulder from the blade.  There were also burn scars on the upper left side of his back where the spell-fire had caused the most damage.

Although Harry awoke, Slytherin remained in a coma for two more weeks.  During the time that Harry was awake and Slytherin was not, he was surprised that Gryffindor never tried to see his lover.  When Slytherin woke and asked for him, Harry sent for Gryffindor.  He refused to come.

***

It was another month before Slytherin had recovered enough to be able to leave the coven.  He went straight to Hogwarts.  Harry accompanied him.  School had been on break when Aberon attacked and had only been in session for about a week when Slytherin and Harry arrived.  Slytherin went to see Gryffindor, and Harry went to check on the Chamber of Secrets.  It hadn't been used during the battle of course, but he was beginning to feel as though something bad was about to happen.

When he arrived in the chamber, he discovered a newly hatched Basilisk.  He sighed and left.  If he had killed the Basilisk, he would have saved Moaning Myrtle's life, and perhaps others as well.  What is to be, though, must be.  The Basilisk must live.

When Harry re-entered the school, he found Slytherin waiting for him.  He was obviously upset, but refused to tell Harry what had happened.  He found out very quickly though, when the students came out of class.  The split between Gryffindor and Slytherin had occurred, and whatever Gryffindor had told his students had caused them to begin the mistreatment of Slytherins that would continue until Harry's time.  

When Slytherin joined the staff table, he was shunned by the other teachers, including Helga Hufflepuff.  Without Rowena Ravenclaw to mediate between them, there was no hope of reconciliation.  Harry was shunned by the other professors as well, and the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs treated him with great disrespect.  The Ravenclaws were too devastated by the loss of their house's founder to react.  The Slytherins were suffering under the combined weight of the loss of family members and the attitude of their fellow schoolmates.  Aberon had targeted many of the Slytherin families for his attacks simply because their children had been sorted into the house led by his hated brother-in-law.  

Harry hung his head.  He knew he could have prevented this.  Hell, he could probably fix this as well.  "What is to be, must be," he whispered to himself.

***

{3 years later – 1027 AD}

"All I'm saying is that I don't believe that accepting Muggle-borns at Hogwarts is wise.  Just look at all the problems the three we have accepted have caused," Slytherin argued.

"You can't expect them to accept everything on our say-so.  It's natural for them to try and test the bounds," Hufflepuff replied.

"We're lucky that Smith didn't kill Draconis Malfoy," Slytherin snapped.  "If the boy died we'd have the entire Malfoy clan after our blood."

"It was an unfortunate incident," Hufflepuff acknowledged.  "However, boys will be boys as they say."

"I can't believe you are willing to over-look the fact that Malfoy nearly died!" Slytherin shouted.

"It was only a Malfoy, Salazar.  Who cares if they live or die?" Gryffindor said, entering the debate for the first time since it began.

Slytherin stared, appalled, at the one he had once called lover.  "The Malfoy and Slytherin families are related through blood as well as marriage.  If it had been my grandchild, would you say the same?"

"It's only a Slytherin," Gryffindor replied; a cold smile stretched across his face.

Slytherin slowly stood up from the table.  He carefully gathered his papers and writing utensils.  He took one last look at Gryffindor before leaving the room.  He never spoke a word.  He returned to his rooms and packed his belongings.  Within an hour, the room was completely bare.  

He was outside on the lawn, nearly to the forest when he heard a voice behind him.  "Professor!  Professor, wait!"

Slytherin turned and found one of his better pupils chasing him down.  He waited for the young man to catch his breath.

"Professor," the boy gasped.  "You aren't leaving are you?"

"Yes, Mr. Snape, I am."

"Why?  Please don't go!  Gryffindor and Hufflepuff treat us something awful!  You're the only one who cares about us!  If you leave, no one will care if those stupid Muggle-borns kill us, like they nearly did Malfoy!"

Slytherin placed a comforting hand on Snape's shoulder.  "I'm sorry; I can't stay."

"It's because of Gryffindor, isn't it?" the boy interrupted before Slytherin could continue.

Slytherin sighed.  "Yes, that is part of it.  But it's also because Hogwarts is no longer what Rowena imagined it would be.  We are not united any longer, and I've suffered too much.  I no longer have the strength to try and keep us together.  That task must fall on younger generations.  It is your generation's responsibility to try and pull as back together."

Snape stared down at the ground, unable to meet his professor's gaze.  "I don't think I can do that, Sir."  He looked up and unshed tears were evident in his eyes.  "I hate them.  I hate them for what they've done to us.  My parents died protecting this school and so did Malfoy's mum!  They don't care if we die now that the war is over!"

"Then make them care!"

"How?" 

Slytherin laughed humorlessly.  He brushed a tear aside.  "I don't know.  I never could apparently.  At one time, I thought I could…."

"You're just going to leave us?" Snape asked hollowly.

"Look out for the younger ones."  Slytherin took hold of Snape's shoulders, forcing the boy to meet his gaze.  "And remember, if you ever need help, if any Slytherin ever needs help, the vampires will come to your aid.  Remember that.  Keep that close to your heart… because it's all I can give you."

"How do you know they will help us?"

"Because I will ask them to.  They will look out for you because I asked them to."  Slytherin pulled Snape into a brief embrace.  "Good-bye."

"Please…."

"I'm sorry…."

Slytherin turned and walked into the Forbidden Forest.  He wasn't walking long before he was joined by his long-time friend.  They walked in silence for a brief time before Slytherin spoke.

"I've left Hogwarts.  I won't ever go back."

"I know," Harry replied.  He placed a comforting hand on Slytherin's shoulder.  "Your task is done.  Now you can rest and recover from what life has done to you."

"I won't ever recover, Harry.  I will only exist until Death finally comes for me.  How I wish she had taken me earlier…."

***

{39 years later – 1066 AD}

Slytherin stared pensively at the chessboard.  Finally he reached out and tipped his king.  He sighed as he leaned back in his chair.  "I'm determined one day to beat you, Harry."

"Good luck, my friend.  I've had much more experience at playing this game than you have.  You will be hard pressed to ever beat me," he replied smugly.

Slytherin laughed.  **"What do you think, Yui?  Could I ever beat him?"**

**"Yes,"** she replied from her perch beside the board.  **"In your dreams."**

**"Yui, you wound me!"**

Harry laughed.  **"She speaks the truth!"**

"Rector Lamia?"

"Yes, Arthur?"  Harry said, turning to the young vampire whom had entered the room.

"The last of the Anglo-Saxons have fled to the north.  They will crown William the Conqueror in a few days."  His hands fisted in his pockets.  "The Normans have won."

"It was inevitable, Arthur," Harry consoled.  "Your family is safe however, and they will survive.  There are several elder vampires making sure of that.  You needn't worry any longer."

Arthur was silent for a moment before reluctantly answering. "Yes, Sir."

"Concentrate on your studies.  You've much to learn before you reach your Daylight years."

"Yes, Sir."

Harry and Slytherin watched as the boy left.  "He's very upset," Slytherin said.

"He's very loyal to the land of his birth," Harry replied.  "Does it bother you that a Norman will soon rule over the land?"

"He will not rule over the land that matters to me," Slytherin replied.

"That seems very selfish."

"I'm allowed such thoughts in my old age."

"Old age?  Salazar, you are not even a hundred."

"My heart is old."

Harry stayed quiet.

"Old and worn."

Harry reached across the table and clasped Slytherin's hand.  "I'm with you, my friend."

***

{50 years later – 1116 AD}

Gathered around a large bed deep in the depths of the coven were High Priestess Rachael, Princess Lily, Princess Illiona of the Elves, Queen Fleur of the Veela, and Rector Lamia Harry.  In the bed lay the very frail form of one aged wizard: Salazar Slytherin.  At one hundred and forty three years of age, Slytherin was laying on his deathbed.  

A life full of hardship and pain had shorted the wizard's lifespan by over fifty years.  For the past three years, the man had not left his bed.  His health had been deteriorating for over two decades.  To him, it was to be a blessed night.  The Great Salazar Slytherin would finally die.

He asked only for his friends to be with him as he took his last breath, keeping his passing light with laughter and half-remembered stories.  His friends did not mention the man who had dealt him his slow-killing wound.  That man had died only a month before.  There could be no reconciliation.  There was a slight sense of satisfaction though, as the same sickness that was killing him, had killed the one who cursed him with it so long ago.  

Godric Gryffindor was never happy after Slytherin's disappearance.  He took a wife and fathered three children, but he did not love her, and he found it hard to love children that were not the product of the love of his life.  He led a wretched existence until he died at the age of one hundred and ninety six.

Slytherin knew that his friends felt this was just punishment for the man's behavior, and even some part of him agreed, but… Godric Gryffindor had been the love of his life.  His death was what was finishing Slytherin off.

Laughing, talking, even some singing continued in the deathbed chamber till nearly dawn before Slytherin breathed his last, a slight smile on his lips.  His friends cried at his passing.  A great man had died long before he should have.  Slytherin was buried on the Isle of the Dead beside the body of Princess Olivia.  

"He was part of our family."

***

TBC…

A/N:

Alright… that's chapter five.  I'm satisfied with it for the most part, but there are some things that I'll flesh out a bit when I'm doing the final editing for the story.  This chapter might have one or two scenes added into it, or it might just have some extended scenes.  ::shrug::  we'll see when we get there.

I haven't made a final decision on how I want to give Gryffindor's motivations for his break-up with Slytherin.  At the moment, it's set up to discuss in flashbacks in future chapters, specifically, in some scenes with Sev and Harry.  However, during the final editing, I might write in some of it in this chapter.  It would be one of the added scenes I mentioned I might do.  ::shrug:: like I said, we'll see what happens.

So… Shingu is a real town in Japan; I think it's about 200 miles or so from Tokyo, not quite sure on the distance.  Kumano is a real religion, and it was popular in medieval times.  The Kumano Hayatama Shrine is also a real shrine, however, I'm not sure on the founding date for the town, and I really doubt that anyone from Shingu would be happy with me using their town as a base for witchcraft and dark creatures.  If you have any questions about the real Shingu, ask me and I'll try to answer your questions, but since I only know a little about the town I can't guarantee a satisfactory answer.

The timeline for chapter six is from Slytherin's death to Harry's disappearance.  I'm actually a bit worried about the length of the chapter since not too many events will be covered in depth.  Chapter seven will begin with Harry assuming his younger self's place.  As you can see we are nearly to the Harry/Sev!  I'm so excited about that.  I've been having to restrain myself from writing some of their scenes together.  I want to do this all in the right order so I don't crush any creative impulses that might arise otherwise.  But still, we are nearly there!  

As I said before, I do post sneak peeks to chapters when there has been a long wait between updates, but I only post them at my group.  I am sorry for how long the gap was on updates for this story, but I only have so much time to dedicate to writing during the summer.  Now that school is nearly in session, it won't be as long before the next update.  I'm also hoping that considering the length of this chapter, you'll forgive the long wait. :) My yahoo!group:

groups.yahoo.com/group/HuntressSmiles/

As always, please feel free to ask me questions.  If you're having trouble understanding something, then please let me know.  Unfortunately, questions are more likely to be answered if you ask them at my group than if you ask me in an e-mail.  I have the very bad habit of forgetting to respond back to e-mails.  If you are one of those people who sent me an e-mail and didn't get a response back, I'm sooooo sorry.  If you did get a response back… you lucky dogs!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or sent me an e-mail.  All encouragement is appreciated.

~Artemis Luna Diana~


	7. Chapter Six: Old Blood

**Title:** Blood

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadiana@yahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.  

**Summary:  **Thrust into the distant past and turned into a vampire against his will, Harry struggles to understand what he has become and tries to fill his one desire: to get home.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to:** snapeysnapesnape for the excellent beta.

Chapter Six: Old Blood

{7 years later – 1123 AD}

"You summoned me, Father?"

Harry looked up and smiled.  "Yes, come in and sit down."

"Is something wrong?" Lily asked.  "Why did I need to leave Shingu?"

"I was looking over some of Salazar's things."  Harry stood.  "I've only recently begun organizing his room and workshop.  I can only assume he meant to tell me about it once he finished his research… his illness must have prevented that, and then he forgot about it…."

"Forgot about what?" Lily asked curious, but patient.

"Apparently he was researching vampiric magic."

"What aspect?" Lily asked, intrigued.  "We are only able to use our magic when we procreate.  Had he found some method of harnessing it?" 

"No, that magic is still locked from those not in the priesthood.  However, those vampires that are wizards can be taught wizardry."

"How?  You are the only vampire who didn't go insane from the twisting of the magic."

"That's because I was not bonded when I was turned.  I bonded afterwards."

Lily seized upon his meaning immediately.  "The properties of familiar magic prevent it from being used to harm, and a vampire by nature is harmful to those around it!"

"Exactly," Harry said.  "When the innate magic was transformed into vampiric magic, the familiar bond was transformed into something destructive: something no familiar bond can survive."  

"Clever Slytherin!" Lily breathed.  "Why didn't anyone realize?" 

Harry smiled slightly.  "Because we all assumed it had to do with the training, which in a sense it does, but now that we know that bonding is okay after turning – or birth – and wands are fine as well, those vampires that wish to learn can do so."

"This will be a great tactical advantage," Lily said thoughtfully.  "I know that I am not the only one who was concerned that we were becoming obsolete.  Without magic, we had only our physical skills… and against a wizard or an elf, we would lose."

"Yes, that was my fear as well.  I want to start the first class, with a small number of students.  I assume you wish to be a part of it?"

"Of course!"

"Good.  It would be best to train in this coven; you'll need to select a replacement for Shingu's First.  It will take several years just to get the basics down."

"That won't be a problem.  Who else will you choose for this class?"

"Like I said, I want to keep it small.  You – Shingu's First, Ariel – Rome's Second, Elspeth – Rachael's apprentice, Zeraclies – Sparta's First Healer, and Edward – London's High Priest, will be the first students."

"Why Ariel or Zeraclies or Edward?  Why not someone more easily replaced?"

"Once they've learned, they can train those in their coven without the confusion of adding another individual to the command structure.  Those that replace the leaders during their training can be sent to found a new coven once the training is over."

Lily grinned.  "So pick someone I don't mind losing?"

Harry smiled.  "You can think of it like that."

Lily laughed, delighted.  "Finally, I'll have a legitimate reason to banish Hikaru from Shingu!"

***

{65 years later – 1188 AD}

Harry chose not to limit himself to magic, despite his age and experience, and occasionally could be found doing things the "Muggle way."  Which is why he was currently walking to London to meet Victoria Snape.

After Slytherin's disappearance, the remaining members of the Snape family had contacted the vampires upon their graduation.  Harry kept a close eye on both children as they finished growing and began their lives.  Both were very bitter and would, on occasion, remind Harry of his almost forgotten Potions Professor.  They were very different from their ancestors who although known for their bluntness and directness of speech, were still considered cheerful and good-natured.  Victoria and her elder brother were very cynical.

Harry stopped as he noticed a cloud of dust rising in the distance.  Curious, he cast a sight-enhancing spell on himself.  It was a fairly large group of knights, humans if he wasn't mistaken.  He didn't recall any human wars in danger of springing up.  England was fairly peaceful under King Richard's rule, though his brother John was bound to cause trouble in his quest for the throne.  But he hadn't thought that John was ready to act against Richard yet.

He contacted Rachael and asked her if she knew of any human forces on the move.  Her reply surprised him.  The Third Crusade was beginning.  Harry shook his head.  Humans.

***

{12 years later – 1200 AD}

Harry stared pensively down at the table.  The council meeting had adjourned temporarily.  It was only every ten years that the First of every coven met, and as such the meeting usually lasted at least a week.  There were forty-two covens currently in existence.  Already there were plans being created for the next, though as far as the humans were concerned, there was only one coven, and the wizards knew only of the Forbidden Forest Coven and Shingu.

He had worried, wondering what catastrophe was going to befall his people to wipe them out.  With the long success of the covens' concealment, he had begun to realize that the vampires had not died out, merely gone into hiding.  He also felt that it would soon be time for the vampires to "die out."

In this council meeting he would order the slow fade of the vampires.  No trained wizards would be turned from this day forth.  The turning of humans would be carefully monitored.  Vampires would be ordered to stay clear of contact with wizards not connected with Shingu.  Half-vampires would remain half-vampires, so as to promote the thought that the vampires were truly gone.  The Forbidden Forest Coven would be emptied of all non-essential personnel.  It would be used only for training purposes and as the center for the vampires' main religion, as well as its continued use as Harry's base of operations.

After the council meeting was over, he would travel to Shingu, and they would also receive orders.  Shingu would continue to be a town where the races lived together, but to the outside world, the vampires will have disappeared.  Only the residents of the town could know that vampires still existed.  The town would also be commanded to stop the immigration of other wizards.  Only humans would still be allowed to come to the town unhindered.  The veela and the elves would also be called upon to help hide the vampires' presence.  Harry would also begin severing himself from the majority of his contacts in the wizarding and human worlds.  

Once a sufficient amount of time had passed, however, the vampires would slip amongst the humans and wizards again, unnoticed.  It was time to begin training spies.

***

{Later that same year - 1200 AD}

Harry entered Snape Manor without a problem.  Its wards had long since been set to accept his presence.  Victoria's great-great-granddaughter Isabelle greeted him.  "Harry!"

"Hello, Little Izy," he replied fondly.  "How is your grandmother today?"

"Fine," the little girl chirped.  "She was instructin' Adam on his potions this mornin'."

Harry smiled.  "Then I'd say she's having a very good day."

"Yep!"

Isabelle followed along chattering away as Harry walked to Victoria's rooms.  Victoria was a very old witch at 187, and she was still going strong.  She had outlived her brother by nearly a decade and still mourned his loss, perhaps even more than she mourned the loss of her husband.  

When they reached the old woman's rooms, Isabelle bid him goodbye and took off before her great-great-grandmother decided to instruct _her_ on potions.  Harry was grinning as he entered Victoria's rooms, and Victoria's smile soon matched his.

"Well, if it isn't everyone's favorite vampire!" she cackled.

Harry kissed her cheek warmly.  "Well, if it isn't my favorite tyrannical cynic," he replied.

"I've been hearing things, Harry," she said seriously.

"Oh?"

"That something has frightened the vampires; that whatever it is, it's killing them.  Soon there will no longer be _any_ vampires."

"I've heard that too."

"Is it true?"

Harry cast a very complex silencing spell over them to prevent eavesdroppers.  "It is both true and untrue."

Victoria closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  Her eyes were misted when she opened them.  "What's happening?"

"The vampires are going away for awhile.  We are waiting for someone, a Dark Lord named Voldemort."

"You're preparing to take him down."

"Yes.  He's much stronger and more evil than Abernon could have ever hoped to be."

"What would you like me to do?"

"Nothing.  He won't be rising till nearly 800 years have passed."

"When he rises, vampires will only be a memory.  He'll never see you coming."

"That's the idea."

They sat quietly for a moment.  "You'll be disappearing soon, then."

"Yes."

"I'll miss you, Harry."

Harry smiled.  "No, you won't.  There's no rush.  I promised you I'd be around whenever you need me.  As long as you are here, I will be too.  There is still plenty of time."

***

{57 years later – 1256 AD}

Harry glanced up as he sensed someone approach the door of his classroom.  The vampire was young, which is probably why she sought him out instead of contacting him through their mental link and to give him a message: Illiona was visiting the coven.  

Harry's jaw clenched as he dismissed his class and walked down to his office.  "Princess Illiona," he greeted her, coldly formal.

"Rector Lamia Harry," she replied, her voice just as devoid of warmth as his.  "My father sends his regards."

Harry just nodded and sat down at his desk.  He stared at her pointedly.  "What do you want?"

"I bring tidings of the elves.  My father, as High King of the Elves, has commanded that we follow the vampires' example and fade away from the human and wizarding worlds."

"Thank your father for me.  I appreciate being informed of this decision."  Harry stood.  "If there is nothing else?"  

For the first time since Harry entered the room, her face softened.  "Harry…"

"Then I'll bid you good day," Harry cut her off.  "You know the way out.  Try not to kill anyone as you go," he snapped.

Illiona flinched and did not reply.

Harry brushed past her and went to one of the training rooms.  Too angry to risk sparing against one of his vampires, he activated one of the training spells, and decimated his magically constructed opponents.  Upon the completion of the training spell, he was still so angry his body was shaking.  

***

{117 years later – 1373 AD}

"No!  Please!  I'm innocent!  Oh, God!  Help me!  Please!"

Harry watched dispassionately as the townsfolk shouted foul things at the helpless woman.  One of the men grabbed her long blonde hair and dragged her to the center of town.  Her screams, cries, and pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears.  

"Burn the witch!" someone shouted, and the refrain was taken up by the rest of the mob.  The woman's screams became even more hysterical.

Harry scowled as he followed the crowd.  He had been out walking, trying to clear his head, and the noise had drawn his attention.  Humans could be so stupid.  The woman was a healer, and although had magic, was not trained, and therefore not truly a witch.  Really!  What kind of idiot did you have to be to equate a simple herbal remedy with witchcraft?  Humans truly had fallen far since the wizards had begun concealing themselves from the Muggles.

Considering the Muggles reaction to the "unexplained" though, was it any wonder that the smarter wizards had hidden themselves away?  Very few wizards still lived among Muggles.

This particular woman seemed very familiar to him though.  He couldn't quite place where he had seen her before.  Unless she had traveled though, he knew he couldn't have seen her.  The woman was only twenty at the most, but quite possibly younger, and he hadn't been in England in at least thirty years.

He sensed that she could be turned, but there was no reason that he could see to risk exposure by saving her.  

"Narcissa Black, you have been charged with crimes against God and man.  May the righteous fire cleanse the evil from your soul!"

Harry nearly fell over as it hit him who this woman was.  Before he could react they set fire to her.  Harry whipped out his wand and doused the flames, causing the townspeople around him to scatter.  He rushed to her side and scooped her up, apparating the second she was secure in his hold.

***

"How's she doing?" Harry asked, hovering near the foot of the bed.

Mikhail glanced up.  "She'll be fine, Harry.  I've already begun healing the damage from the fire.  She won't even have a scar."

"Then why is she unconscious?" he scowled.

"Harry, use your brain," he replied dryly.  "She was set on fire.  She passed out from the shock."

"But she'll be okay?"

"Yes," Mikhail replied exasperated.  "Want to tell me why you're so bent out of shape about one un-trained witch?"

"How old is your youngest?" Harry asked, ignoring the question.

Mikhail stared at him a moment in shock, then sputtered out a reply.  "Rose is 467."

"Think you could take her on?"

"Of course… Harry, what's going on?"

"Mikhail, she's very important to me, but I can't risk turning her myself.  Will you do this for me?"

"Harry, you've known me for over two millennia, you don't have to ask me that.  I trust you.  I'll do whatever you need me to."

"Turn her."

***

{156 years later – 1529 AD}

"Narcissa.  Pay attention."

"Sorry, Harry."

"I realize this is your first time out among the humans," he said in the old tongue.  "But if you are not careful, you could be spotted by a wizard."

"They couldn't find a vampire if it jumped up and bit them."  She giggled.  "I still can't believe they thought Prince Dracula was a vampire."

Harry smiled.  "The Muggles thought he was one, and since the vampires have 'died out' the Britain Ministry of Magic wanted to make sure he wasn't the last vampire or something."  Harry shook his head.  "We are here so you can work on you accent.  Speak in French."

"Oui, Monsieur."

"Smart ass."

***

{103 years later - 1632 AD}

"Those damned wizards are always causing problems," Lily growled.  "Because of Britain's Ministry of Magic, everyone else in the world has decided to put magic tracer spells out.  If any of us leave the protection of the covens, we'll get put on their lists!" 

"Our spies in the various ministries can't work fast enough to keep our names off," Jason added.  "It's becoming a very serious problem."

"It isn't _becoming_ a very serious problem, it _is_ a very serious problem!" Lily snapped.

"What they're trying to do is admirable," Rachael commented.

"Admirable?" Lily squawked.

"They're trying to protect both the humans and themselves by concealing the existence of magic from the Muggles.  They're keeping the magical creatures from sight as well.  That's admirable.  It's only unfortunate that they are able to pick up the vampires as well."  Rachael turned to Harry.  "Can they pick up the non-wizard vampires too?"

"Yes.  They've managed to net our innate magic signal in their spell.  They've caught the elves and Queen Fleur as well," Harry replied.  "We need to come up with something that disrupts the spells and prevents them from detecting any of us.  We haven't much time before someone realizes that names and creatures are being erased from the lists."

***

{17 years later – Jan 30, 1649}

"I don't know, which one do you think is the better rule?" Narcissa asked.

Lily shrugged, and then stopped as a thought occurred to her.  "Would they consider Father to be a king or a dictator?"

"Well, Rector Lamia translates roughly to Master Vampire, so continue that thought to…Lord and Master, then you get…hmmm…Harry's a God!" Narcissa bust out laughing.

Lily grinned.  "That makes me a Demi-Goddess!"

"And I am a favorite of the Gods!"

"You know, we probably shouldn't be laughing."

"Yeah, a beheading is serious business."

Lily snickered.  "Shut-up, we're supposed to be watching so Father can put it in his journals."

"Right!  Paying attention," Narcissa said, trying to keep from smiling.

"I shouldn't go anywhere with you.  You make me feel like a little girl again.  I act like such an idiot around you."

"Thanks," Narcissa replied cheerfully.

Lily laughed.  "Come on, quit it.  They're going to be bringing him out soon."  Lily shook her head and sighed.  "I can't imagine anyone rebelling against Father, can you?"

"Harry's a great leader though."  Narcissa gestured towards the waiting block.  "King Charles made mistakes that Harry would never make."

"Father is just as fallible as any of us, Narcissa.  Don't place him on a pedestal."

"I know that.  I've seen Harry make mistakes.  Making a mistake does not make you a bad leader; it's what you do after the mistake is made."

Lily smiled softly.  "I'm glad Father has you to keep him company."

Narcissa frowned.  "What do you mean?  He's got Rachael, Jason, my father, not to mention he talks with you and Fleur all the time.  He's got tons of friends."

"But you are his only lover."

Narcissa's mouth dropped open.  "I'm not his lover!" she yelped.

"You're not?" Lily asked shocked.

"Does everyone think that?" Narcissa asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"I don't know.  I thought you were…. You're not?"

"I think if anyone would know, it would be me," she hissed.  "Why…why would you think that?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't know…I mean, you're very attractive…."

"You think I'm attractive?"

Lily blushed.  "Narcissa, you're very beautiful.  I think it would be difficult for anyone to find you unattractive."

***

{83 years later - July 28, 1732}

**"_In a dream I saw a man shadowed in the darkness of night, but the dark was not evil. Light shone from within the dark and I knew the man was good.  Closer I walked to him and I saw that which frightened me.  The good man of the night had fangs.  I dreamt of a vampire._"**  Yui looked up from her reading.  **"What rubbish!  Who actually reads this garbage?"**

Harry laughed.  **"I thought you might enjoy that."**

**"This is a piece of crap!  Is this dumb witch actually going to fall in love with this wacko dream vampire?  You know she is!  This idiot can't even characterize a vampire correctly and this is the opening of the book!  The wording is stupid and overly dramatic!"** Yui continued outraged.

**"Oh, Yui.  You'll have to accept that with the 'passing' of the vampires and elves that people will want to romanticize us."** Harry replied smiling.

**"Harry, this is supposed to be written by someone who claims to have done extensive research on vampires.  Whoever wrote it… was this written by a wizard or a witch… a witch… figures!  This witch is an idiot and if anyone reads this and actually believes it, vampires will be laughing stocks!"** Yui hissed.

**"It's a romance novel, love.  No one will believe anything in it,"** Harry soothed.

**"It's stupid, Harry,"** she muttered.

**"You know, wizards outside of Shingu no longer know how to create the familiar bond.  Familiars are being romanticized too,"** Harry prodded.

**"The second they write some trashy novel about a snake familiar, I'm writing the damn Ministry to complain!"** Yui snapped.

***

{155 years later – March 4, 1887}

"Hello, Father.  Have you come to Shingu on business or pleasure?"

Harry smiled at his daughter.  "A bit of both actually.  I need to talk to the council, but I also planned on training, as well as checking up on Narcissa."

Lily frowned.  "I'd like it if you could tell me what it is exactly you are training her for.  She won't tell me.  The only thing I know is that she won't mate with me until the task is complete.  And she won't tell me when that is either!"

Harry's smile faded.  "I'm sorry, Lily.  I know how much you want a child."

"Sorry doesn't cut it!  Rachael knows, Fleur knows, damn it even Yui knows!  I'm your daughter and her intended!  Why can't I know?"

"Because you would try to stop her, and I can't allow that."

"Could she die?"

"She's already dead."

"Stop joking around!"

"Every spy I send out has the possibility of dying."

"How high is her possibility?"

Harry hesitated a moment.  "Very."

Lily blanched.  "Don't tell me anymore, unless you're going to tell me why."

"I'm sorry, Lily.  I'll tell you everything the moment she leaves."

"Whatever," she said and walked away.

***

{83 years later – August 10, 1970}

"Harry?"

Harry stiffened and turned around.

"Still out wandering the Forbidden Forest, keeping watch over Hogwarts?"

"What do you want, Illiona?"

"Harry…." She placed a trembling hand on his shoulder only to have it shrugged off.  "Harry, it's been over 700 years.  Why can't we get past this?  I did what had to be done."

"You used me, Illiona.  I trusted you.  You didn't even have the decency to tell me what you were doing.  I found out nearly three hundred years after the fact and by accident!  I don't know what hurt more, that you did what you did, or that you did it and didn't bother to tell me…."

"Could you have let me do it?  Could you have stood by?"

"You didn't give me a choice!"  Harry paused to take a calming breath.  "I am going to have to stand by and allow my parents to be slaughtered.  While it's true that I never knew them, that isn't the point.  If I save them, I change my _whole fucking past_ and the past of this entire world.  If I allow them to die, everything that went wrong before will go wrong again.  _That's_ my choice.  If I can stand here and say they must die for the greater good, that I have to live with my past and my regrets, then I can damn well make sure that the past happens the way it should to result in my future!"

"Will you be able to stand by when Voldemort comes for your parents?" she demanded.

"Yes," he hissed.

They stood staring at each other in tense silence.  "I am sorry, Harry."

"You always are."

"Voldemort has risen."

Harry loosed a mocking laugh.  "It begins then."

"What are you going to do?"

Harry glared at her.  "Kill the fucking bastard."

***

{6 years later – June 12, 1976}

"All the spells are in place," Harry said.  "Whenever you're ready."

"I am as ready as I can be."

"Good luck, Narcissa.  Be careful, I don't fancy telling Lily that anything bad happened to you."

Narcissa nodded quickly.  "Okay."

"Go on then, Sirius Black will meet you and take you to the ball.  Don't make friends with him."

"Right, I'm a cold, haughty bitch."

"Correct."

"Okay.  I'm ready."

"I'm always here when you need to talk, don't hesitate to talk to me for any reason.  My mind will always be open to you."

"Okay.  How do I look?"

"Like a rich, elegant, seventeen-year old girl."

"Good, that's what I was going for."

"You don't want to be late."

"Right.  I'm going."  She grabbed Harry in a tight hug.  "Bye," she said, then apparated.

***

{2 months later – August 23, 1976}

"Where have you been hiding?" Harry asked.  "I thought you wanted to know as soon as possible."

"Where is she?" Lily asked without looking away from the Isle of the Dead.

"She's still here in Britain."

"Where is she infiltrating?  The Ministry?  Hogwarts?"

"Neither."  Harry hesitated a moment.  "She's marrying into the Malfoy family."

Lily tightened her hold on her legs.  "What?"

"She's going to marry Lucius Malfoy."

"Does he love her?"

"No.  It's a political marriage."

Lily began to shake; Harry grabbed her and held her close.  "She's going to have to give him a child," she stuttered.

"Yes."

"I…I…" Lily couldn't speak through her tears.

"Goddess, Lily, I'm so sorry," he breathed.  

***

{5 years later – October 31, 1981}

"Stop pacing, Harry, you're giving me a headache."

"Sorry."

"Harry, sit down before I tie you down."  Fleur watched as Harry struggled to control his nervous energy.  "Would it help if I knocked you out?"

"Maybe."

Fleur blinked.  "I was joking."

"I wasn't."

"Working yourself into a frenzy will not help the situation."

"What if I am supposed to be there?  What if something I do is the reason why I lived?  If I'm not there, how am I supposed to do it?"

"Do you truly think you should be there?"

"I don't know!"

"Harry, this isn't like your journeys through time.  You were responsible for the things that happened to you because you caused the situation in the first place.  Whether or not you went back in time, this situation would still be the same, this isn't in your jurisdiction… per say."

"What if I saved myself and gave myself the opportunity to travel back in time in the first place?"

"Now I really am getting a headache.  Playing 'what if' games are pointless, Harry.  Whether you want to go or not, I'm not letting you leave this room.  This conversation is moot.  Voldemort will fall without any interference from Rector Lamia Harry.  Harry James Potter will bring him down this time.  You are up to bat next."

Harry stared at her a moment in surprise, then gave a half-smile as he calmed somewhat.  "Just how were you planning on doing that?"

"Well, I was first going to try seducing you."

"A vampire is immune to a veela's charms."

"True.  I figured that I could distract you by attempting to seduce you… and then whack you upside the head and knock you out."

Harry laughed.  "That might work."

Both tensed and turned as the door opened.  "Your Majesty, Rector Lamia… the Dark Lord Voldemort has fallen to Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived."

***

{14 years later - October 8, 1995}

"Is everything ready?" 

"What are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be?"

"True."  Harry was quite a moment.  "I guess in a way, I'm glad you are here."

"Then I…" Illiona cleared her throat.  "Then I am glad too."

"The past, present, and future are about to collide.  Are you sure you want to witness this?"

"I trust your spell making," she said quietly.

Harry stared at her a moment.  "I know," he finally replied.  **"Are you ready, Yui?"**

For once, Yui wasn't her usual arrogant self.  **"Yes."**

"Here you come," Illiona said softly.  "Get ready."  She slowly began to back away out of the range of Harry's spell.

***

Illiona carefully approached the still form of the Rector Lamia.  With her heart pounding in her throat, she looked him over.  "Thank the Goddess," she wheezed, feeling a pulse beneath his cool skin.  She looked over Yui next; the snake was also unconscious.  Illiona took Harry's wand from his hand and returned it to his sheath.  She glanced up as she heard shouts.  The wards over the school had detected Harry's spell.  The cavalry was coming.  

She backed away from the body and carefully but quickly erased all signs that anyone other than Harry had been there.  She scaled a nearby tree to wait.

"This way!" someone shouted.

Two men and one woman came running towards Harry's fallen body.  Illiona's mouth dropped open, and then closed with a smile.  "You think of everything, Harry, don't you?" she whispered. 

The older wizard had to be Dumbledore, and Illiona had known enough Snapes to recognize the younger man as one, but without a doubt Illiona recognized Poppy Pomfrey – age: 1,587.

"What happened to him?" Poppy gasped and drew her wand.  She quickly examined him.  "His magic levels are severely depleted."

"Death Eaters?" Snape demanded while scanning the woods.

"No, this was contained completely within him," she replied, not looking away from her patient.

"Something he cast triggered the wards?" Snape scoffed.

"Harry is an unusual boy," Dumbledore commented.

"No, he didn't cast this.  He's not even holding his wand… hello, what's this?"

"What?"

"There's a snake… it's unconscious too."  Poppy glanced up at Dumbledore.  "I would hazard a guess and say that the snake is involved in whatever this is."

Dumbledore nodded.  "Then let's get them both back to the school.  We can figure out there what trap Voldemort has sprung."

Poppy nodded and levitated both of her patients.

Illiona watched them go.  "Clever, clever, Harry.  Let them think that anything that seems off is the result of a brand new familiar bond."  She chuckled.  "Good luck."

***

TBC…

Okay, yes, yes, I know it's short, it's been forever since the last update… anything else?  I apologize sincerely.  I knew at the end of the last chapter that this one was going to be shorter than I wanted.  It's about 2,000 words shorter than the average chapter for this fic.  Later, when I go back and do the editing process, I'll try and beef up this chapter some more.  Fill in more details on Narcissa's training and her relationship with Lily, as well as a few additional scenes with the Snapes.

Okay, now – the long wait.  At first RL was keeping me super busy and I barely had time to breathe much less write, then I finally get some time to write and wham-bam!  Car accident.  I broke both my right arm and leg (I was in the front passenger seat).  I have a rod in my leg until October of 2004, but the cast on my arm is off and I'm doing PT.  The docs say it will never be at full strength, but I have hope.  My right arm is my dominant arm.

Now, to the fic – the reason that Illiona and Harry had their falling out will be addressed in flashbacks and conversations between Severus and Harry.  Harry was very angry about it, as you might have noticed.  Lily is completely heart-broken and so is Narcissa.  No surprise Draco turned out the way he did when he's got an asshole for a father and a mother who didn't want him and is in love with someone she can't be with because of his father.  Ouch, huh?  

Which reminds me!  What did you all think about the spies?  Who else do you think might be a spy?  I am quite curious.  I'll go ahead and say Dumbledore is not a spy and neither is Fudge.  Severus is not a vampire either…yet…hehehe….

Another thing, if the "First" and "Second" and "First Healer" stuff confused you, you are probably not alone.  The new ranks and government will be explained to Dumbledore and co. when the vampires are introduced, as well as the development of religion within the covens.  The priesthood's magic will also be addressed then – i.e.: Rachael is not a witch-vampire, but can do some magic.

So, next chapter… Harry's back to his original time!!!  The elves, the vampires, and the Veela Queen are all going to come to light.  Shingu is about to reopen its doors, and Voldemort has no fucking clue!  I love it!  ::goofy laugh::

As I have said before, I do post sneak peeks to chapters when there has been a long wait between updates, but I only post them at my group.  My yahoo!group:

groups.yahoo.com/group/HuntressSmiles/

As always, please feel free to ask me questions.  If you're having trouble understanding something, then please let me know.  Unfortunately, questions are more likely to be answered if you ask them at my group than if you ask me in an e-mail.  I have the very bad habit of forgetting to respond back to e-mails.  If you are one of those people who sent me an e-mail and didn't get a response back, I'm sooooo sorry.  If you did get a response back… you lucky dogs!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or sent me an e-mail.  All encouragement is appreciated.

~Artemis Luna Diana~


	8. Chapter Seven: Falling Blood

**

* * *

Title:** Blood 

**Author:** Artemis Luna Diana

**E-Mail:** artemislunadianayahoo.com

**Rating:** R (eventual NC-17)

**Pairing:** HP/SS

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing.

**Summary: **Thrust into the distant past and turned into a vampire against his will, Harry struggles to understand what he has become and tries to fill his one desire: to get home.

**WARNING!!!!**

**THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SLASH!!!!**

**IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT OR WITH THIS PARTICULAR PAIRING… LEAVE NOW!!!!**

**Thanks to:** Kes and Shadow for the excellent betas.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Falling Blood

* * *

"He's waking up," Poppy said and hurried to Harry's bedside. "Come on, Mr. Potter, open your eyes."

Harry moaned. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. "Oh Goddess," he gasped. "Something's wrong!"

The anguish in his voice was unmistakable. Dumbledore quickly approached the bed. He grasped Harry's hand. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"Where is she?!" Harry cried. His whole body seized as his mind tried to find the bond that had been closed off. Unable to prevent it, he loosed a scream of agony. "Yui!"

"What's happening?" Dumbledore demanded.

"I don't know!" Poppy yelled. In her mind, though, she trembled. Never had she seen anything more terrifying than the Rector Lamia screaming in pain and loss. Her eyes landed on the magically contained snake that was her leader's familiar. "The snake!" she cried, and rushed to release it from the containment field Dumbledore had built.

"Poppy, no!"

The hospital wing echoed with silence as the screaming abruptly stopped.

**"Yui…"** Harry hissed softly, his throat unable to handle a louder tone. His voice was heavy with relief and suppressed tears. His hand reached out in her direction.

**"Harry?"** Yui whimpered. **"It hurts…."** She tried to get to him but couldn't seem to move without causing herself more pain.

"Yui…" he sobbed. Every movement caused more agony to his tortured mind and body.

"Poppy, what has happened to him?" Dumbledore demanded.

Poppy glared at the headmaster. "I don't know! I told you that it would be unwise to bind the snake when we didn't know how it would affect Mr. Potter." She carefully picked up the snake, wary of it biting her in its pain. She carried it over to Harry's bed and set it down on his chest. "Suffice to say that I can tell you they are magically connected somehow and separating them is only torture to both."

The tension eased from both Harry and Yui, and they fell into an exhausted slumber. Poppy rubbed her right temple as the ache of Harry's pain began to fade. She could only imagine what those who were in more frequent contact with Harry's mind had felt. _ 'High Priestess Rachael has probably passed out,'_ she realized. She sent a prayer to the Goddess that the priestess was not alone when she collapsed.

"What has Voldemort done?" Dumbledore breathed.

Poppy could barely keep from rolling her eyes. Never had the Headmaster irritated her more. "It is possible that he has nothing to do with this. We've had nearly every professor in here scanning for dark magic and haven't found a trace of it."

"Voldemort is cunning, Poppy. Don't forget."

"Yes, Albus, I know. I also know, however, that he is not responsible for everything that happens to this boy!" Poppy took a deep breath. It would be wise to get her temper under control or else Dumbledore might become suspicious of her. She was unprepared for the reality of the Rector Lamia's safety being in her care. She could not fail him now. "I apologize, Albus, for losing my temper. It appears Mr. Potter's condition has stressed me more than I realized." She gave the Headmaster a half-smile. "I still have more tests to run."

"It's alright, Poppy. I know you're doing everything you can."

* * *

"I demand to know what is going on!"

Harry woke to the sound of a shrill voice screaming in the next room. He slowly sat up, stroking Yui to calm her. He met Poppy's worried gaze.

_'I'll be fine. Quickly, what happened?'_

_'Your spell knocked you both unconscious. Dumbledore, Snape, and I found you and brought you here. Your magic reserves were so low that Dumbledore was able to bind Yui.'_

_'That was the pain we felt.'_

_'Yes. I'm sorry, Sire. I couldn't think of a valid reason to prevent him from doing it.'_

_'It's fine, Poppy. Who is out there?'_

_'It's Dumbledore and that Umbridge woman.'_

_'Wonderful.'_ Harry said sarcastically. _'Well, you might as well tell them I'm awake.'_

_'Yes, Sire.'_

Harry readjusted his position in the bed for maximum comfort. Yui coiled herself around his arm. **"How do you feel, love?"**

**"Hurts."**

Harry frowned unhappily. It had been awhile since he'd felt so upset. But then, no one had ever tried to harm Yui before. She was such a large part of him. It was almost beyond his grasp to understand how much her binding had affected him.

Dumbledore and Umbridge walked in behind Poppy.

Before Dumbledore could speak, Umbridge jumped in. "How dare you?! Entering the Forbidden Forest and casting magic on yourself in an attempt to get attention! How low will you descend, Mr. Potter?!"

"Madame! Restrain yourself!" Dumbledore grabbed his employee before she could attack her student.

"What is that?!" Umbridge cried, horrified. She had just noticed the four-foot snake wrapped around Harry.

"It's a snake," Harry replied dryly. "A Natrix natrix to be specific." At the uncomprehending look on Dumbledore's face, Harry elaborated. "She's a grass snake. Neither venomous nor aggressive. She eats frogs, toads, newts, and small fish. Her name is Yui."

"Is she safe?" Dumbledore asked.

"If you mean, was she sent by Voldemort, the answer is no."

"Voldemort again! You lying boy!"

"Madam, that is enough. Kindly remove yourself from this infirmary," Dumbledore ordered sternly.

"The Minister will hear of this!" she snarled as she stalked out.

_'But he will be quite unable to do anything about it,'_ Harry smirked inwardly, turning his attention to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore gave Poppy a look and the medi-witch-vampire entered her office, leaving the two to talk in peace. Dumbledore approached the bed. "What happened, Harry? Why were you in the Forbidden Forest?"

"I thought I heard people talking," he replied honestly, remembering what had drawn his younger self to the forest. "But when I went in, there was no one there. I don't remember what happened after that."

Dumbledore frowned. "What about the snake?"

"I don't know. I… she's special. She… completes me. She's my other half," Harry said haltingly, not having to fake his attachment to his familiar. He gently caressed Yui, hissing soothingly to her. "I can feel her… inside of me."

Dumbledore seemed almost angry, his expression dark. The Headmaster was not happy with Harry's apparent infatuation. "Harry, these things you're feeling were probably caused by Voldemort. Those voices you heard were most likely Death Eaters. Harry, try to remember what happened. How did they bind this snake to you?"

"There was no one there," Harry replied distractedly, his attention focused on comforting Yui.

"You just said you heard voices."

"But there was no one there, only her."

Dumbledore watched them for a moment before leaving the room.

Harry glanced up, watching him leave. A smirk crossed his face, before he returned his attention to Yui. **"I think he bought it."**

**"At least one thing is going right then. How was he able to come between us?"**

**"Poppy said our magic levels were extremely low. I get the feeling we were lucky we didn't burn out."**

**"So no more throwing people around in time?"**

Harry smiled. **"I don't fancy the idea of casting that spell again. It was a doozy." **He stretched a bit.** "My muscles are sore and stiff. I'm not sure if that's from the time-spell or the binding."**

**"I hurt,"** Yui said mournfully.

**"My poor baby,"** Harry soothed, smiling.

**"Don't tease me,"** Yui replied seriously. **"I don't feel well."**

Harry sobered at her statement. **"Hush, love. Don't talk anymore. Get some sleep."**

**"I don't like the Headmaster," **she said sleepily.****

**"At the moment, neither do I. Sleep, now."**

'Poppy?' he called mentally, letting the medi-vamp know it was fine to return. 

Poppy came back into the infirmary. "Well, the best thing for you now, is some sleep, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled slightly. _ 'Keep an eye out and don't hesitate to wake me if something happens.'_

_'Of course, Sire.' _Poppy handed him a vial of Dreamless Sleep. "Drink this."

_'Has Flitwick figured it out yet?'_ Harry drank the vial and handed it back to her.

_'No, but he'll think of it soon. He's already begun looking at ancient animal binding spells. It shouldn't be too long.'_

_'Good work,' _Harry's mental voice was thick with the potion-induced sleepiness.

_'Sleep well, Sire.'_ Poppy adjusted Harry's position in the bed so he'd be more comfortable, then tucked in the two sleeping figures.

* * *

"What could Voldemort hope to gain by binding Harry to this snake?" Dumbledore asked. "Did you know about this, Severus?"

Before Snape could respond, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick entered the Headmaster's office. McGonagall was clutching a book tightly to her chest. "We think we might know what happened," the Charms Professor said, barely able to control his excitement.

"How did Harry behave towards the snake?" McGonagall asked.

"He seemed infatuated with it."

McGonagall looked pleased by Dumbledore's statement.

"Well?" Snape snapped impatiently.

"It might be a familiar bond!" Flitwick jumped excitedly. "If Mr. Potter can remember what happened to him, he might be able to unlock the secret of the ancient binding spells!"

"No one has been able to form a familiar bond in over a millennia, and you're telling me that **_Potter_** somehow just stumbled into one?"

Dumbledore's eyes began to twinkle with a mixture of relief and pleasure. "Is there any way to test this?"

"Yes! There are a couple of different spells as well as a potion. We can try whichever one you want." Flitwick was stilling bouncing in excitement.

"We should use them all," Dumbledore replied. "Just to make sure. Severus---"

The Potions Master cut him off. "Give me the recipe."

* * *

McGonagall handed over the book, and Snape stalked from the room.

Harry woke, but did not open his eyes as he felt a gentle brush on his mind.

_'Sire?'_

_'Nakishia, what is it?'_

_'Umbridge has submitted a proposal for Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five: students are no longer allowed to keep any animals at Hogwarts without the express approval of the High Inquisitor.'_

_'She is trying to separate me from Yui. Has it passed yet?'_

_'No. The Minister hasn't seen it.'_

_'Then we should begin enacting our plans before they have the opportunity to cause more problems.' _Harry said firmly. _ 'I want Fudge out of there as soon as possible.'_

_'Yes, Sire.'_

* * *

Nakishia Kibaki, Undersecretary to the British Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, gathered up the proposed educational decree and the Minister's other mail. As she walked to the Minister's office, she cast a complex portkey charm on one of them, through the use of her familiar magic. Those passing by her, suspected nothing.

"Ms. Kibaki," Fudge said, pleased to see her. "Any news from Ms. Umbridge?"

"Yes, sir. She has sent another proposal for an educational decree."

"Good! I'm sure she's taking things well in hand."

"Yes, sir."

"Well?" Fudge said after a moment and held out his hand for the letters.

"Oh! Sorry, sir." Kibaki blushed. "One letter from Ms. Amelia Bones with a status report from the Department of Law Enforcement; two letters from the Daily Prophet requesting interviews, and one more from Mr. Xavier Nott, which I did not open." She handed over the letters.

"Well, let's see what he says," he replied, accepting the bundle. In that very instant, Fudge disappeared.

Kibaki screamed. She continued to scream as various witches and wizards burst into the office. They quickly gave up trying to calm her down and simply stunned her until someone could get a calming draught.

* * *

It wasn't too long after his contact with Kibaki ended that Harry felt another touch to his mind.

_'Harry, Fudge has been captured.'_

_'Excellent, Rachael. You and Jason begin the questioning. Have Mikhail monitor him. I want as much information as possible from him. Keep me informed.'_

_'As you wish,'_ Rachael replied and ended the contact.

* * *

"You've got to be fucking kidding me? Not one Imperious Curse? He's just a total fucking moron?"

"Jason, watch your language."

When Fudge came to, he found himself strapped to a chair while three people stared at him. "Who are you?" he demanded

"He's alert. Mikhail, administer the Veritaserum," the woman said calmly.

"You can't do that! I'm the Minister of Magic! Unhand me this instant!"

"And hurry up; he's damn annoying," one of the men added.

The other man, Mikhail, who was somewhat older looking than Jason, approached the Minister with a dropper full of liquid. Fudge closed his mouth tightly.

"The fun way then," Mikhail mocked and pinched the Minister's nose.

When Fudge was finally forced to open his mouth to draw a breath, Mikhail dosed him with the truth serum and then rubbed his throat forcing him to swallow. After a minute, Mikhail began checking the Minister's vitals. Satisfied that Fudge was reacting within norms, he okayed the interrogation to begin.

"My name is Rachael. You're going to answer all my questions, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Good. What is your name?"

"Cornelius Fudge."

"What is your position in the Ministry of Magic?"

"Minister of Magic."

* * *

"Headmaster, I believe we can begin with the first test," Flitwick said. "The spell requires a great deal of power and concentration. Since Minerva is more powerful, I have asked her to attempt the casting in my stead. She is as ready as I can make her, in the short amount of time that we've had."

"I understand. Let's proceed." Dumbledore replied.

"She's waiting for us in the hospital wing." Flitwick said as they left Dumbledore's office.

* * *

Harry lay awake, pondering when Dumbledore and his colleagues would return. It had been three hours since Harry's behavior had so distressed the Headmaster. Idly, he wondered when the Headmaster would receive knowledge of the Minster's kidnapping, and if that was the reason why Dumbledore had yet to appear. He glanced up as he heard the doors to the infirmary open.

A quick glance confirmed that Yui was still sleeping, and his teeth clenched momentarily as the cause of her pain entered the room. He quickly got himself under control and calmly greeted the headmaster. He gave a small smile to his two professors, and did not comment on the fact that McGonagall had been outside the infirmary for the past fifteen minutes.

"Harry, we want to do a spell on you and your snake," Dumbledore began.

"Her name's Yui." Harry interrupted, taking slight offence from the headmaster's refusal to call his familiar by her name.

"Right. Yui. May we perform the spell?"

"It won't hurt her will it?"

"No, there should be no pain involved for either you or Yui," Flitwick said reassuringly.

"Alright. If you promise you won't hurt her, then ok."

"I promise, Harry. I'm going to do my best so that neither one of you will be hurt." McGonagall said firmly.

Harry nodded. **"Yui wake up."**

Yui woke as Harry quickly apprised her of the situation. She watched McGonagall warily as the professor began the incantation to try and determine the nature of the bond between Harry and herself.

Both Harry and Yui felt the spell's incursion along their bond. Their instinctive reaction was to force the invader away from them. The pair struggled for a moment to restrain that impulse, allowing the probe to continue for as long as possible before forcefully expelling it from their bond.

Harry opened his eyes, unsure of when he had actually closed them, and focused on McGonagall. She looked incredibly weary and drained. She turned to Dumbledore and nodded.

"It's true?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"What's true?" Harry asked.

* * *

Amelia Bones exited the Minister's office and nearly bumped into David "Flash" Siegel, one of the Ministry's top aurors, as well as her 2IC. She pulled him into Umbridge's office and closed the door. "What were you able to find out from Ms. Kibaki?"

"The Minister was definitely kidnapped through a portkey."

"That shouldn't be possible. The wards around the Ministry should have prevented it."

"This was a very powerful, very precise portkey," Flash replied. "Ms. Kibaki handled it for at least ten minutes before she gave it to the Minister."

"Do we have any idea which letter was the portkey?" Amelia asked.

"No, we won't be able to figure that out until we find the letters."

"I can't even get a trace of transportative magic from Fudge's office. We'll need to bring in some equipment if we are to have any hope of finding him." Amelia paused. "Has anyone leaked it to the press yet?"

"No. The press don't know the truth. They believe that the Minister had a heart-attack or some other sudden health problem."

Amelia crossed her arms and leaned back on the wall near the door. "Any ransom demands?"

"No."

"We can't keep this a secret for long."

* * *

"Have you participated in or are you aware of any cover-ups of Voldemort or Death Eater activity?" Jason asked.

"No."

"Have you participated in or are you aware of any cover-ups of _suspected_ Voldemort or Death Eater activity?" Rachael asked.

"Yes."

* * *

"We've been at this for three hours now, ma'am. We've found all we're going to find."

"Which is precisely nothing," Amelia snapped.

The room was silent a moment.

"Perhaps, we should make an announcement," Flash suggested. "Perhaps, someone from the general populace has seen something. We've gotten leads on kidnappings from citizens before," he reminded her.

"But we've never had such a high-profile political kidnapping. The only thing worse I can think of would be if it was Harry Potter missing!" Amelia crossed her arms and stared down at the floor in thought. "Gather the press," she said finally, giving in to the inevitable.

* * *

"The Minister has been kidnapped. Portkeyed straight from his office," Arthur Weasley said.

"Any witnesses?" Dumbledore asked.

"Nakishia Kibaki, one of the undersecretaries. Apparently, she handed the portkey to the Minister and promptly had a nervous breakdown when he disappeared." Arthur's image wavered briefly in the fire.

"Any suspects?"

"None officially, and none unofficially. The aurors are clueless."

"Could Voldemort have done this?" Dumbledore asked, more to himself than to Arthur. "I must speak with Severus. Thank you for informing me, Arthur."

* * *

"I think we've gotten all we can from him," Rachael said.

"I agree," Mikhail said.

"Yeah, me too," Jason agreed. "Who wants the honors?"

"Oh, for love of the Goddess," Rachael groused and pulled a dagger from her belt. Efficiently, she slit the Minister's throat. "We'll wait for the blood to drain before moving him," she said, ignoring Fudge's dying gasps.

"We'll if you all don't need me anymore, I'll be off to the apothecary. I've students waiting on me," Mikhail informed them.

"Go on," Jason gestured towards the doorway. "And send a magvamp (1) in. We'll need to clean up the blood."

"Sure," the medi-vampire replied as he left.

"Where is Harry dumping the body?" Jason asked.

"He said the portkey will drop the body in the fountain in the Ministry building's main hall."

"Nice," Jason replied, impressed. "Are the letters set up?"

"Yes. Nakishia did it. We just have to plant them."

"Excuse me, First Healer Mikhail sent me," a voice said from the doorway. "How can I assist?"

"Clean up the blood, but make sure you leave no traces of your magic," Jason ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Once the blood was gone, Rachael planted the letters and then set the portkey on top of Fudge's head. With a soft pop, the body disappeared.

"Well, that was fun," Jason remarked, briskly rubbing his hands together. "When's the next interrogation?"

* * *

Amelia Bones stared at the letters spread across the table. She didn't look up as Flash walked in.

"There were traces of Veritaserum in the Minister's blood… what little was left of it. Other than that, there was no evidence of magic. Fudge died from the cut to his throat." Flash hesitated and then finished his report. "The second portkey has vanished. I would say it was probably on a timer, but I don't think so. It seems to convenient that no one was touching it at the time."

Amelia flashed a self-mocking smile. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. An intelligent portkey. I'm sure that both of them were."

"What about the letters? Which one is the portkey?" Flash prompted when Amelia did not offer the information immediately.

"I don't know. There are two possibilities left and it's impossible to figure out which one it was. It was either Nott's letter or Umbridge's letter." She turned and smiled a lackluster smile at her 2IC. "And I'm fairly certain that neither one of them created the portkey."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. The second portkey disappeared. Whoever created it, didn't want us to have it. However, they didn't care if we had the first one. Why?"

"The second one could be traced back to them. It was fresh, the first was old."

"But why risk giving us the first one? We might be able to discover something with some further testing. No. They want us to have the first portkey. It's a set-up. They want suspicion cast on Umbridge and Nott."

"But why?"

"Think about it. Umbridge is causing problems for a lot of people at Hogwarts, especially Harry Potter. Nott has been accused of being a Death Eater at least twice. With all of Potter's recent claims that You-Know-Who has returned, this takes care of two problems. One: it gets Umbridge out of Hogwarts, and two: brings up serious evidence that You-Know-Who might have returned."

"So the killer is someone who is trying to help Potter?"

"It's a theory, Flash. It's just too convenient for me to think that this is some random lunatic with a grudge against the Minister. Also, the portkeys are much too sophisticated. I've never seen anything like them. Have you?"

"No." Flash paused. "You are beginning to make a disturbing kind of sense. Should we be concerned for Potter's safety?"

"I think so. I think we could be looking at some kind of stalker. One who has no objection to killing anyone that stands in Potter's way."

"What about Nott and Umbridge?"

"We've no choice but to suspend both of them from their duties and place them under house-arrest. We don't have enough evidence to be granted a Veritaserum interview. Besides, if I'm right about this, we should give the killer what he wants for now. If we don't, he might decide to take more drastic measures."

"I've one more question about your theory."

"Shoot."

"Why Fudge?"

"Because Fudge tried to expel Harry from Hogwarts and is a high-profile individual. The public won't stand for allowing suspected murderers to continue to hold public office, especially Umbridge, since she's currently at Hogwarts. Nott might be able to get out of house arrest, but Umbridge won't be able to."

"Should we go pick them up now?"

"Yes. You collect Umbridge. I'll get Nott."

* * *

Dumbledore walked into Snape's laboratory and waited for the Potions Master to acknowledge him.

"Has he been found?" Snape asked.

"Yes. He was portkeyed into the Ministry, dead, his throat cut."

Snape paused. "Fudge is dead?" he repeated. At Dumbledore's nod, he muttered, "Thank the Goddess for small miracles. So who did it?"

"There are no leads." Dumbledore paused meaningfully. "Could it have been Voldemort?"

"It doesn't really seem like his style," Snape said flippantly. He grew serious at Dumbledore's un-amused expression. "If it was him, he's made no mention of his plans to me. I expect there will be a meeting soon to discuss the Minister's death. I can't tell you anything else."

Dumbledore nodded, disturbed. "Keep me informed." He turned to go, and then stopped. "How is Mr. Potter's potion coming along?"

"It will be done tomorrow afternoon." Snape studied the Headmaster under lowered lids. "And the spells?"

"Say Mr. Potter is the proud owner of a familiar bond," Dumbledore said with a slight smile.

Snape waited until Dumbledore left before cursing a blue streak in four languages, rounding it off with a yelled "Bloody Potter!"

* * *

Flash and six aurors entered Hogwarts' castle with slight trepidation. They were quite aware of the attitude of the individual they were coming to collect. Dolores Umbridge was not well liked even at the Ministry. Although Flash was not looking forward to the scene that was sure to happen, he was hoping that she would get so out of hand that he'd be "forced" to stun her into submission.

Half an hour later a very pleased Flash was walking alongside an unconscious floating Delores while Hogwarts' staff and students looked on with glee.

McGonagall turned to Dumbledore and asked, "Who will replace Umbridge as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?"

"I'm not sure at this point, but I must find someone; otherwise we will be sent another replacement from the Ministry."

* * *

"Can anyone tell me the top three pain-inflicting curses currently known?"

"Kaiou sensei, the most painful is known as the Cruciatus Curse. The second is the Mpishius Curse, and the third is the Memorius Curse."

"Yes, Yamamoto-san is correct. The Cruciatus Curse was created by the Anglo-Saxon wizard, Erik McGonagall in 423 A.D. with the intention of using it against his blood enemies, the Blacks. It is designed to stimulate the pain centers in the brain, with the intensity of the pain increasing as the spell continues. On average, this spell causes insanity in the victim, if applied for longer than twenty minutes without pause. The brain overloads and shuts down after prolonged exposure, resulting in death."

The white haired half-veela paused in his lecture to wait for his students to finish up this section of notes. After a few moments he began again. "The Mpishius Curse was created by an extinct South African tribe in 672 A.D. It was used for ritual killings, such as the assassinations of enemy leaders, sacrifices ordered by the tribe's shaman, and as punishment for violations of high tribal law. The spell slowly dissolves the internal organs until death; this usually takes about twenty hours. There is no way to cancel this spell." Kaiou smiled sardonically at the class. "So if you decide to use this spell, make sure you actually want the person dead."

The class broke out into laughter.

"Moving on. The Memorius Curse was created by Sylvia Skeeter in 1012 at the time of the Dark Lord Aberon's reign, with the intention of using it during interrogations. The spell utilizes information stored in the memory centers of the brain to make the victim relive every physical and emotional pain he or she has experienced so far in his or her life. The spell is designed to prevent the victim from dieing while under its influence. Depending upon the age and life experience of the victim, the spell can range from as painful as the Cruciatus Curse to the lesser pain of a broken bone. Despite its limitations, it was commonly used at the beginning of Aberon's reign by the forces of 'light'. For the victims who reacted intensely to the Memorius Curse, there were many aftereffects. Most common was death the instant the spell ended. To those that survived the cessation of the spell: paralysis, insanity, magic loss, or blindness were common. It was the harshness and the permanence of the spell's aftereffects that lead the Scottish wizard Salazar Slytherin and the Rector Lamia Harry to develop an accurate truth potion, which they named Veritaserum."

A brisk knock on the closed classroom door prevented the professor from continuing his lecture. "Come in."

Ito Keiko stood in the open doorway. "The Council has sent me to inform you that you have been activated."

Kaiou nodded briskly. "Class, you have been aware that I would be leaving this year for an undetermined length of time. It seems that today is that day. Ito sensei will be taking over your class. I expect you to treat her with respect and learn from her, as she is just as knowledgeable in this field as I am."

"Thank you Kazuo-chan, you flatter me," Ito said cheerfully.

"Don't get used to it."

The class snickered.

"Class dismissed. Be here tomorrow for Ito sensei's class."

The two professors waited for the class to exit before speaking again. "Can you tell me where you are going?"

"Britain."

"I figured as much. Be careful."

"I will. Does the Council wish to see me before I leave?"

"No, it's not necessary." Ito paused. "All of Shingu will miss you."

Kaiou grinned. "If you say so, my friend."

* * *

Kaiou Kazuo stepped off the plane with a weary sigh. The flight from Tokyo was long and he had heard horror stories about Heathrow Airport. Fifty minutes later, he exited the airport and took a cab to a nightclub called Lamia's Haven. As it was eleven A.M., the club was not open for business. However, a greeting in the old tongue to the doorman gained him admittance.

Lamia's Haven was a club created solely for the use of the vampire spies in the Muggle world. The Muggles believed it to be a club with a select membership, not realizing that no common human had ever been allowed to pass through the doors. The wizards believed it to be a simple Muggle establishment, despite its magic sounding name.

Kaiou was quickly taken to the manager of the nightclub and handed a portkey. He was told the portkey would take him to the Forbidden Forest, right on the edge of Hogwarts' grounds. Kaiou thanked the manager and vanished with a soft pop.

The half-veela glanced around to get his bearings and then headed straight for the school. He stepped in and immediately encountered a ghost.

"I've never seen you here before," the ghost exclaimed. "I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. How may I help you?"

Kaiou greeted the ghost warmly and said, "Could you take me to Headmaster Dumbledore's office?"

"Yes, right this way."

* * *

"Lemon Drop?"

Kaiou declined frowning slightly.

"Well then Mister …"

"Kazuo Kaiou of Shingu," he replied, giving his name the English way, with his family name last.

Dumbledore blinked. "Pardon me?"

"I represent the Shingu Council, who have been monitoring your situation. It has been determined that without outside aid, your forces will fall. This is unacceptable. I am here to offer our assistance. Do you accept?"

"How do I know that you're really from Shingu?" Dumbledore gaped in shock, saying the first thing that came to mind.

Kaiou was unfazed by the Headmaster's question. "There is nothing that I can say or do that will cause you to believe me, if you close your mind to the possibility. It was decided when you faced Grindelwald that you could handle the situation without our assistance; Voldemort is another matter, however. There have been prophecies about his coming since before Jesus of Nazareth was born. We have always known that we would become involved in this war. We have been waiting for the signs that confirmed Voldemort is who we suspected him to be. There is no doubt in our minds that he is the one we have been preparing for. We would prefer to work with you. Is this possible?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. "Would you be willing to take Veritaserum?"

"With the stipulation that your questions will not violate my trust. You may not ask me anything regarding Shingu's secrets, the Council, or about the races that founded the city. Do you understand?"

"Of course. Allow me to summon my Potions Master."

"Severus Snape, correct? I look forward to meeting him. His work is very well respected in Shingu."

After Dumbledore sent a house elf to fetch Snape, the two wizards engaged in small talk while they waited. By the time Snape arrived, they were in the midst of a rousing good argument about England's and Japan's chances at the World Cup.

"Ah, Severus, did you bring the Veritaserum?" At Snape's nod, Dumbledore continued. "Excellent. Please give Mr. Kaiou a dose."

Without appearing the least bit surprised at the unorthodox request, Snape dosed Dumbledore's visitor. He checked the man's vitals and then nodded to Dumbledore to proceed.

"What is your name?" Dumbledore asked.

"Kaiou Kazuo."

"Where were you born?"

"Shingu."

Snape gaped at the Japanese man as he realized what that meant. He glanced at Dumbledore as the headmaster continued to carefully question his guest. Dumbledore didn't know what this really signaled, what the appearance of Shingu's ambassador really meant. The vampires were returning.

* * *

Harry lay curled around Yui on the hospital bed. It was late at night, and he was preparing himself for the coming dawn. He was being released from the hospital wing in the morning. Dumbledore had tested their bond in every way possible - save the potion that Snape was still working on – and felt it all right for him to return to school.

He had spent the last fifteen years studying his younger self, reading his earliest journals, and examining the memories in his pensieve. He was fully confident that he could pull off this transformation, and that any irregularities could be blamed on the "new" familiar bond. That wasn't what concerned him.

His worry stemmed from the fact that this was all new territory for him. He no longer had a firm guide. From now on, he was operating solely on his instincts and the small clues various Seers had provided. The future was no longer set in stone.

Things were moving quickly. He was now at Hogwarts. Fudge was permanently out of the way. Umbridge was under house-arrest. Kaiou had contacted Dumbledore. Harry paused in thought. He was curious – he wondered what Dumbledore would do with the half-veela.

His spies were everywhere, quietly and efficiently gathering information. Soon it would be time to introduce the Veela Queen, the elves, and finally the vampires. They would also be contacting the descendents of their old allies, like the Snapes.

If he knew Victoria, she would have beaten it into her children's heads: "The vampires are our allies. Do anything for them." She had claimed it was her motto.

Harry missed her. She had been such a wonderful friend, and he hated losing friends.

Harry felt a touch on his mind and welcomed it warmly.

_'I thought you'd still be awake.'_

_'You know me too well, Rachael.'_

_'What's bothering you?'_

_'Uncertainty.'_

_'Understandable. You have been following a guideline for over 2000 years now – a vague one, but still a guideline. It's natural to feel that way.'_

_'I love how you now what I mean, even when I'm being cryptic.'_

_'It comes from acting as your confessor for so long. Stop changing the subject.'_

_'I'll be alright, Rachael.'_

_'I know you will.'_

There was a companionable silence for a moment before Harry spoke again. _'How are you?'_

_'I could be better. I still have a headache from this morning's activities.'_

_'Fudge was that annoying?'_

_'Yes, but that didn't cause the initial headache. I collapsed when you woke up. You lashed out, and everyone in close contact with you felt it. I seemed to get the brunt of it because other than Yui-'_

_'You are the one I'm in the most contact with mentally. Is Lily all right?'_

_'She's fine. She didn't collapse, but she does have one hum-dinger of a headache.'_ Rachael paused._ 'I'm sure she'd welcome your thoughts.'_

_'Perhaps.'_

_'You realize that Lily is not the one holding back anymore. It's you and your guilt.'_

_'Rachael, stop. Not tonight.'_

Harry felt her mental sigh clearly, and bit back a sigh of his own. _ 'Fine, Harry. Not tonight. When are they setting you loose on the school?'_

Harry chuckled at her phrasing. _'Tomorrow.'_

_'Then you should try and get some sleep.'_

_'I will; don't worry so much.'_

_'Well, someone has to. You certainly don't.'_

Harry laughed. _'Goodnight, Rachael.'_

_'Goodnight, Sire.'_

* * *

Snape frowned as he crushed the ginger roots for Potter's potion. It was, perhaps, redundant to continue to make it in light of the success of the other tests, but Snape was of the mind "better safe than sorry."

The appearance of Kaiou had thrown him. It was a confirmation of everything he had been told as a child. The confirmation he had desperately needed as a teenager. The confirmation he had done without as an adult.

The vampires were returning.

The Snape family had a long history with the vampires. Often chosen as representatives to the Magical Council, the family had been in frequent contact with the Rector Lamia and his people.

The Snapes were almost entirely wiped out after the war with the Dark Lord Aberon. The only surviving members had been children and because of that, Salazar Slytherin became their defender. When the weary wizard had gone into seclusion, Rector Lamia Harry had taken over. He had encouraged the surviving family to stand strong against the prejudices facing them. He had even allowed them to enter the Coven and visit Slytherin.

The two men had encouraged his ancestors in their potions work, and potions eventually became synonymous with the name Snape. A good portion of each generation typically followed the tradition, himself included.

Up until the vampires disappeared, Rector Lamia Harry was often a visitor at Snape Manor. The world didn't know why the vampires "died out," but the Snape family did. Rector Lamia Harry told his ancestor, Victoria Snape, why they were disappearing, and she had passed down the information. A dark lord was rising: Voldemort. The vampires were going into hiding in the hopes of gaining an advantage over him.

Victoria had told her decedents to prepare for the dark lord's coming. Everything the family did was with the intention of aiding the vampires in the destruction of Voldemort. It was their goal; it was their purpose.

Despite the costs of the war against the Dark Lord Aberon and the loss of over 30 family members in the 1733 assassinations, the Snape family still wielded an enormous amount of power. While most Snapes chose to become potions masters, the rest became involved in politics or espionage. Others were notable in their own right, such as Hector Snape – one of the few true Seers alive.

His Aunt Sarah was the former ambassador to the United States Ministry of Magic, before she married the US Minister. She wasn't really his aunt - their relationship was much more convoluted - but she was a Snape.

The family was a close-knit group. It was rare for a Snape to live somewhere besides the Manor. Severus had grown up surrounded by loving but demanding adults - his parents, his aunts and uncles, even his distant relations - as well as his cousins and sister.

Things changed when his mother and twin died. His father had been the Italian Ambassador and was often there on business. On one particular trip, Severus had chosen to stay at the manor with his cousin, Jacob, while the rest of his immediate family went with his father. He remembered that Aunt Cassandra - his actual aunt - had not been too thrilled with the idea of being the primary caretaker of Severus and Jacob, nine and thirteen years old respectively, for such an extended period of time.

On that trip, his mother and sister died during a terrorist attack in Rome. After that, the family kept Severus from his father. Without his mother's influence, his father had fallen into the dark arts. Marcus had always been fascinated by dark magic, but his mother had kept him clean of it. Eventually, he became a Death Eater, willingly, with every intention of helping Voldemort rise to power.

It was something no Snape could condone. Idly, he wondered if his father would have turned out that way if he had known about the Snape Legacy. When Marcus died during a Death Eater attack, no one had mourned his passing.

When Voldemort first began his rise to power, Aunt Sarah had been forced to take her children to America to avoid the risk of compromising her husband's position. That had left him and Jacob as the only children still at the Manor. Together, they decided to join Voldemort's ranks in order to be in a position to aid the vampires from the inside.

What fools they had been.

Jacob was killed at the tender age of 18 in a Ministry raid on the Manor, and his mother, Aunt Cassandra - totally innocent of Voldemort's taint - had fallen with him. The Ministry claimed it was an accident. There wasn't a Snape - alive or dead - that believed them.

He had spied, waiting and waiting for the vampires to come. They never did. Eventually, he went to Dumbledore and offered his services to him, thinking that his efforts should at least accomplish something. He never felt like he had succeeded.

When Voldemort fell to Harry Potter, he had been equal parts relieved and disillusioned. He was relieved that the dark lord had been defeated, but he could no longer believe in the vampires. The family legacy said that Voldemort was the one to watch out for. When he rose, the vampires would return. Hector had been conspicuous in his silence. That should have given him his first clue that not everything was as it should be.

Dumbledore vouched for him when others dropped his name in the Death Eater trials. He hadn't even needed to use his family's connections. The wizarding world saw him as the family's black sheep. Snapes were neutral in all things; they were diplomats and potions masters. The family knew otherwise. To them, he was the brave one who stepped into darkness with eyes wide open in hopes of saving the light.

They still believed. Believed the vampires would come. Even though Voldemort had already been defeated. He had tarnished his family's name for a bunch of ghosts. He wouldn't make that mistake again. That's what Severus had thought then. Now he wasn't so sure. Voldemort was back again. And a man had come from Shingu. A man that was half-veela. He needed to talk to Kaiou alone and figure out if this was all coincidence or not. And it was about time he confronted Hector about his complicity in his and Jacob's folly. He hadn't been a child for a long time; Hector couldn't use that as an excuse any more.

He'd have to decide if he should tell Dumbledore though. He could come off sounding even more "deranged" than normal. Well, there was no need to hurry. Besides, there was no need for Dumbledore to know everything that went on.

* * *

TBC…

_Author's Notes:_

(1) – a vampire with magic. Pronounced: maj-vamp (take the "ic" off of magic and add "vamp" to the end).

I'm sorry guys for the long pause between updates. I seem to be having a really bad run of luck. The latest being that my computer crashed and I lost some of my data. I'm usually fairly good about backing up stuff, but it had been a couple of weeks since I had last done it when the computer crashed. I lost about half the chapter, and I think I've managed to forget something because the chapter is shorter than the original version was. Either that or I was just more concise this time around. I don't know.

Anyway. Story details.

As you can see, I changed Snape's family history from canon. I spent about six days constructing the Snape family history (then spent another six days reconstructing it when the computer crashed). I have the Snape family tree taped to my wall. It's HUGE! I probably won't even use half of the information on it in Blood. Anyway, next chapter you'll find out how many Snapes are alive right now and where they all are.

Severus will not be spying. I think it's kind of silly for him to do so with everything that happened in _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ alone. Voldemort knew about Severus saving Harry because Quirrell knew it, and Voldemort was attached to the back of the man's head. The risk to Sev is too great for Severus himself or Dumbledore.

Fudge is dead; Umbridge is gone ::pauses to wait for cheering to die down:: This chapter really focused on Harry's manipulations rather than Harry himself or even one of the other larger characters. The next chapter will have Harry's first day of school, and we'll see the younger characters, and Harry's impressions of them.

Jason is back as you can see. I received some e-mails and reviews wondering if he was dead. He's not. He's grown a little more playful in the 2000 plus years since you all last saw him. He is still Harry's 2IC and his best friend. We'll be seeing more of him again, never fear Jason-fans.

Originally, I had intended to have about twelve chapters along with the prologue and an epilogue. Considering that this entire chapter spans the events of one day. I think I can safely say that I was quite wrong in that respect. I now have no idea how many chapters the fic will have. I know this will please some of you, those who have been bemoaning the idea of only twelve chapters. ::laughs::

As I have said before, I do post sneak peeks to chapters when there has been a long wait between updates, but I only post them at my group. The link can be found in my profile.

Unfortunately, it is going to be a slightly long wait for the next update. Because of summer classes and RL, I'm not going to have any real time to write until August. I will of course write during any free time I have, but I really don't know how much time I will be able to arrange to do so. I have five classes this summer starting the 2nd of June and two of them are math classes – and I'm rather crappy at math. I'm going to do my best, but don't be surprised if there aren't any updates until at least August.

As always, please feel free to ask me questions. If you're having trouble understanding something, then please let me know. Unfortunately, questions are more likely to be answered if you ask them at my group than if you ask me in an e-mail. I have the very bad habit of forgetting to respond back to e-mails. If you are one of those people who sent me an e-mail and didn't get a response back, I'm sooooo sorry. If you did get a response back… you lucky dogs!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or sent me an e-mail. All encouragement is appreciated.

-Artemis Luna Diana-


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